Chapters about you
by GwenWallace
Summary: He wished he could go after her and make this go away, but he couldn't. In the name of Andraste did he want to smack that insensible, blockheaded brute of a Seeker for her blind disregard. Had she not understood an inkling of what she had been reading until he had interrupted her?
1. Part 1 - Glimpses of her past

As Always Bioware was the master and I'm just playing around

This is my First Dragon Age Fanfic it is another one of those stories, that have been laying about on my hard drive, waiting to be published. Chapter one, two and three will be up at once, the fourth may take a little while, since I'm glued to my drawing board whenever I can at the moment. A small fraction of it is used as the cover for this collection ;). Anyway there will be connected chapters and one-shots later on.

Love and Fluff and Sass, whatever I come up with^^. Anyway I hope you enjoy :)

I'm sorry for the long chapter...believe me it was even longer before I found a good place to cut something off xD. The next two are shorter :)

* * *

Part 1 - Glimpses of her past

Cassandra always wondered how there could be people out there possessing the ability to move without creating any sound. The absurdity of this was clear as day to her. Everything created sound. She had consulted Leliana about the matter, which had basically meant that she had blurted out her aggravation over her own inability to move without announcing her presence to everyone, after a few too many glasses.

The Inquisitor, Cassandra had quickly determined, was one of those people, though the Seeker secretly accused her of enchanting her clothes especially for that purpose even if it was just to calm her own vexation of being constantly startled by the quiet noble. Today was no exception as she was bent over mounts of scripts, reports and maps when a slight cough beside her startled Cassandra into pulling the hidden dagger at her belt. "For yours and the Makers sake Inquisitor, would you stop sneaking up on me like that?"

The woman beside her only blinked her Ocean blue eyes, unaffected by Cassandra's sudden outburst and continued what she had come for originally, placing a plane but quite thick book in front of her.

"I'm sorry Seeker. I just came to bring you this journal from a mage of a circle in the Free Marches. It seems to reach from childhood to adulthood, some time after her Harrowing. Unfortunately some pages have been ripped out and could not be found in the vicinity. Nonetheless did I sense it could be of some interest since we don't have many records of mages in this particular region." Her tone was as was mostly typical for her, calm, almost dismissive, something Cassandra had taken some time to get used to in the beginning. With time it had gotten easier discerning the fine differences in her intonation and the more familiar the Lady Trevelyan had gotten with the people around her, the more had she started to open up, revealing to everyone's surprise that her way of speaking could be actually closer to the sing-sang usual for Ostwick and Starkhaven.

The way her gaze lingered on the worn leatherback with the initials "H.E.T." imprinted on it, in what seemed to have been gilded letters a long time ago, had the Seeker raise a brow. Maybe someone she had known back then, or tried to find, but Cassandra knew her well enough now to know if Helena Trevelyan didn't want to reveal information, one better not tried to push her. Nodding and after uttering a simple, "Good day to you," the Inquisitor left her to her musings. Aside from her workload Cassandra's gaze started to unavoidably wander towards the tome as if it was something forbidden, holding information to some dark secret, distracting her until she couldn't bare it any longer and opened the diary.

Drakonis: 9:25 Dragon Age

Mother wants to forbid me to train with Alex and Michael. Father disapproves, he says it "is any Trevelyan's duty to be able to wield a sword properly". I told him in secret that I just wanted to learn it so I could beat that terrible boy I had met at the last ball we had visited. Such a boring event. The adults think they can say everything they want around me because I´m just an eight year old child. They have no idea.

I know mother does not love me as much as she does love Cedric and she knows I love father more than her. To her I am just a puppet she can shape into whatever she pleases. I need to be obedient and quiet she says and always tidy and in fine clothes and smile, even though I don't like the person I meet. No sword and bow practice, but dance, song and literature.

I don't want that! I want to defend everyone against bad men and mages who use blood to manipulate others, just like father when he tells me his stories. And Sebastian. He and I have been learning how to use bow and dagger, but now that Mother forbids it I fear I won't see him that often anymore. She hates when he visits us. Says he was a bad influence on me.

Bloomingtide: 9:25 Dragon Age

Please someone make her stop. I'm not her slave. Mother has taken me to the Chantry whenever I openly disobeyed her. I shall become a sister one day, she says. But not here, no. Somewhere far away from her. I can read it in her eyes. Father does not know this. If he did he would be angry.

Cedric is already off to Templar training and Alex and Michael will follow him soon. I miss them already since mother always rushes me out of the door before I can protest.

I'm secretly training with Father and Sebastian again. He's already so good with a bow and I love watching him. Though I don't want to be send away I have not told Father anything about it. I fear he'll be too angry with Mother to ever look her in the eye if I did and I don't want that. In his way he loves her, I know and I can not understand how a woman, able to make my gentle, righteous and honest Father fall in love with her, could despise me so.

Whatever she feels I do not understand.

Did I do wrong? Is it wrong for me to have greater affection towards someone other than her?

These days I feel sad I don't know why. It's as if I were just watching while everything around me moves past without acknowledging me. Leaves me behind. Alone. Is this sensation new? Or is it always like this?

I'm alone...

Firstfall: 9:25 Dragon Age

Dear Maker what have I done?

I can already hear them rushing around outside, waiting for my parents to come to my door and get me. Ask for answers though they know what has happened already. I'm a mage. I knew it the moment I met the spirit in my dreams. She was sweet, gentle as she explained to me what it would be like. I only understood half of it, but one thing I knew: I would need to leave as soon as my parents found out. And so I kept it secret. Until now.

Sebastian and I were playing in the garden. It had started to snow last night and we were throwing small snowballs at each other. I had been feeling funny for a few days, but I didn't care, I wanted to play. Sebastian had just hit me in the head that little twerp and I wanted to show him. I felt it like ants under my skin, but as soon as the snowball had left my hand it was too late.

Sebastian dodged but the tree behind him was hit by the blue ball of lightning that had left my hand seconds before. The spot sizzled, glowing red under the heat and we fled into the house.

Everyone I passed in the hall was afraid, their eyes avoiding me. Not Sebastian. He held my hand and still does as I write this. I fear they'll take him away from me to protect him, but I'm no threat. Am I? I don't want to be! I could never hurt him or anyone else!

Father was the one who came. He did not take away Sebastian, but he asked him to stay outside. He hugged me and I felt save. No rejection. But then he let go and looked me in the eye. They are like mine, but he looked sad. So very sad.

I told him not to be and he smiled, but it did not reach his eyes. He kissed my forehead and sighed. He asked me if I had done something like this before. I told him I didn't. He believed me...

It does not help. They are sending me away next week. I will never see my friends again.

Sebastian...

I need to be strong even though every muscle in my body is set on staying. I want to scream at them, beg them to keep me. They would not listen. It is pointless. I'm a mage. I need to learn control, Father says. If so, I may be able to come back one day, because we are nobles and he is the Knight-Commander of the Circle in Ostwick.

It is not fair, but I cannot say anything.

My brothers were not there as I left. I'll write to them if I'm allowed to. Father says he'll try to spend time with me as often as he can. Mother was quiet. She did not even say farewell as I went. She did not cry.

Are you happy now mother? You got rid of me and it is forever. If you can help it. I don't want to hate you. Not even a little. Because I remember days when I felt warmth around me and a soft voice singing to me the most beautiful songs.

What has changed? Am I the reason? If so I'll try to become better at the Circle. So you can be happy with me again.

Satinalia: 9:25 Dragon Age

It's not so bad they say. I am not stupid. I don't want to be here. It's Satinalia for Makers sake! I want to be home with my family. The wonderful smell wafting upstairs from the kitchens. The warmth in every room.

Father would be home and we'd go out riding without a saddle. Just us, the warm back of the horse and the crunching of snow under its hooves.

The Circle is cold. Some try for festivity, but mostly we are simply sitting by the fire learning. I don't hate the books they present to me. They are the only things not full of rejection, distrust and envy. But I simply miss home.

I need to stop whining. No one will help me, I need to recognize that. I'm the youngest and I feel their eyes on me wherever I go. I'm too young, I hear them whisper. Too strong for my age. Their fear makes them hate me. It's also because they know who I am and who my Father is. Even the templars seem to keep their distance more than usual.

* * *

The slight ringing of chainmail behind her had Cassandra jump yet again. Why did everybody have to startle her today. Missing the rustle of his pelted coat though the Commander sidled up beside her, his gaze scanning over the abandoned reports until his eyes fell on the opened book before her.

"I hope I'm not interrupting Seeker," he asked as polite as ever "you seemed quite absorbed by your reading. I'm sorry should I have startled you." Judging from the stern look and raised eyebrow he figured he was accurate, but didn't want to raise her ire towards him, so he kept his assessment to himself.

The more he was surprised, when she closed the little leather-bound book and handed it over to him. "This is a journal from a mage somewhere in the Circle of Ostwick. Since I am not as familiar with the Circles there as you, maybe you could skim through it and report back to me should there be anything of use to us. I need to finish all these reports before Leliana or Josephine give me an earful again." She said unenthusiastically, rolling her eyes.

She had to know his desk didn't look any less stacked than hers but he was momentarily distracted by the book in his hands. Turning it he caressed the worn leather, feeling a familiar buzz beneath his fingers. "It's marked." He murmured and had Cassandra turn to him again. "It is marked? How come I didn't notice it? Why would the Inquisitor give this to me?" Her eyes had gone wide in alarm before Cullen could raise his hand in a soothing gesture.

"That's not what I meant Cassandra. It simply carries some kind of magical signature of its owner. Weak as it is, it is no wonder you couldn't pick up on it, I've had cases in which the marking could only be felt as long as the owner was close by," his gaze lowered onto the object "It's interesting. I didn't think I'd still be able to sense something like this after all this time. He or she must have carried it wherever they went." Looking up again he asked, "The Inquisitor gave this to you?"

"Yes I don't know where, or when she found it. If she knew its owner she did not say. It does have initials imprinted though and the girl even mentions Ostwick's circle, but you'll have to ask the Herald about it. I'm too busy right now. So if you'll excuse me, or was there something specific you needed from me?" Judging by the look on his face he was far away again, so untypical for him and he twitched a little when she put her hand on his shoulder. "Are you all right Cullen? Something you wished to talk to me about?"

He had in fact come to talk to her about the Lady Trevelyan. Something of personal nature but Cullen could see she was busy and rather agitated that his own problem seemed too insignificant. He had a full desk to return to as well after all. Excusing himself he left for his tower. Turning the initials "H.E.T." around in his head, he did not notice the woman coming towards him, until he bumped into her head on. His free hand automatically came up around her waste pulling the figure snug against his chest only obstructed by his chainmail and well fitting armour for purposes of training the soldiers.

Looking down, though he didn't have to strain himself doing so, he recognized in horror, that he was clutching a ruffled Inquisitor to his chest and could already feel the heat rising to his cheeks. Her curves seemed to fit so perfectly into his embrace.

"Inquisitor!" he exclaimed breathless "I am so sorry! I didn't pay attention." She blinked at him seemingly confused "Please don't be Commander I was simply distracted myself. Are you well? Your face is quite red," she said her own cheeks becoming a light crimson, as she gazed down upon his arm still tightly wrapped around her.

Clearing his throat in embarrassment he let her go, his hands still holding her upper arms gently as she adjusted her balance. "Again I'm very sorry. It will not happen again. Good day my Lady." Rushing up the stairs to his tower on the battlements, his mind never left those piercing eyes that liked to keep haunting him for the rest of the day. Her gaze followed him all the way, still feeling the phantom of his touch through the cloth of her blouse. She shivered and turned to head back to her own work.

Closing the heavy wooden door behind him Cullen massaged the muscles of his neck, trying to prevent the oncoming headache he felt from spreading. Maker she must think me a total imbecile, always stumbling over my own two feet when she's close. Well he would make an even bigger fool of himself if he tried to prove otherwise since everything even remotely eloquent he could think of saying, turned into total rubbish as soon as she fixed those cerulean eyes of hers on him.

 _I'm hopeless._

He sank onto his chair, a tired sigh escaping his chest as he eyed all the loathsome papers that were looming over him mockingly until a pressure in his side became impossible to ignore and he pulled out the book from between his belt. Again he was surprised and intrigued by the familiar hint of magic meeting his fingertips, as he caressed the back. _Well now I'll **have** to figure out who you are_. He already had an idea, though he didn't yet understand why she would want to keep it a secret.

The first chapters awakened his sympathy and Cullen wondered how many mages were out there, whose childhood had been simply taken away. Never to see their families again. And there was never a guarantee they would find friends inside the Circle. It also made him think of his own parents. Not always the happiest place in Thedas, but he was surrounded by his siblings and friends. Warm days in summer, working on the farm, fishing at a little hidden grove he had kept secret to everyone else. Finding repose under the willows on the shore. Hours spent lazily dreaming of knights and damsels as he lay in the grass.

There had also been those nights when his father had gotten himself drunk and ended up beating Cullen for less than nothing.

He had never dwelt on it since he knew his father too well to accuse him of intentionally abusing his eldest son. Especially since it had only occurred three times before he had left to become a templar. He had still loved the man for all his faults and finer qualities.

He had not been there when he passed. Something Cullen had not really been able to forgive himself if he was honest. Even though his templar-training simply had not allowed any distraction. It ultimately led to his Knight-Captain not telling him about his mother's letters at the time.

* * *

Drakonis: 9:33 Dragon Age

I notice it has been ages since I have used this diary for something else than study my gravity manipulation skills on it.

It was a present from Father after all. How could I blemish it so readily? Strange how easily I have forgotten how fond I always was of writing down my thoughts. For my eyes only.

Life in the Circle has become...I don't know. Normal? Somehow I'd wager. Have I come to terms with being caged like an animal all the time? At least with two templars at my back, following me around and watching every step I take? No and I think I never will, but I guess my first three years were the hardest to accept my predicament. Now that it has been almost eight, I have forgotten the difference between being caged here or back at the manor.

Eight years. Half my life.

I don't need to like it, but I can not cry about everything they took from me anymore. It does not help and it is petty really. That, I knew five years ago already, but knowing and understanding are two different things I have learned during that time. There is nobody else here to allow you to go outside and ignore the consequences. Either I decide what to do next, or I need to accept what I can get. So fate, I bow my much too young, yet disillusioned head to you. There is no way out and I'm not ready to die for it. Yet.

I'm still lonely. Their demeanour towards me has not changed, because they don't take it well that I am only sixteen summers old this year and my Harrowing is to be held next month after my birthday. I still don't really understand. Maybe they feel threatened by someone who is so much younger than themselves, but can already manipulate the elements as if they were born from it. I'm exaggerating, but still...it is not a gift.

It is the upside of being alone. I study all the time.

My father ordered the other templars to allow me to use the courtyard for training whenever they can.

I love the Circle's gardens. They are most beautiful in spring when aside from the herbs we grow, all other fruit trees are in full bloom. We would sit outside and study or tend to plants, enjoying the sun on our skin, the song of birds filling the air. I take all the moments of peace I can. They are a blessing I invite with open arms whenever I stumble upon them. They are also the only moments when I have reason to believe in a Maker. A little. I never disliked to read the different Chants. They are great pieces of literature with some meanings behind them I think I'm still too young to understand. Or maybe it's because I have never been able to venture outside these walls. Explore this world. Meet different people. Oh, who am I trying to convince. I would probably never talk to anyone I meet, only if I was forced to.

I'm shy which is why I never respond to the little smiles one of the younger templars sends my way whenever he sees me. I just try to stay out of any kind of conflict that could arise. I'm not self-conscious about my abilities. I know they should not be triggered by emotions. I knew it after the incident with Sebastian in my childhood and learned it later after burning myself a few times last year.

I'd never use it to manipulate someone into submission, or harm them on purpose. What gain would I have? Serve but not rule. Sure it's an amicable intention, but in a world where history teaches us, that power irrevocably leads to corruption, it seems a hopeless endeavour. The Fade only interests me as a teacher. I have not yet encountered a demon, that showed an all too keen interest in me, thank whoever is out there. The spirits residing in the Fade, have been wonderful storytellers and I find myself ever intrigued by what else one could learn from this place.

* * *

For a girl so young she was awfully mature, thought Cullen, sipping at a cup of tea one of the servants had brought him. Not like his favourite blend but good nonetheless. Undoubtedly on the Inquisitor's orders. She had been the first to bring him tea when he had been sitting over his writings all night. Saying she had still seen light in his windows, fully aware that she was just as awake and looked just as tired as him. Maybe her own work kept her up so late. If she slept poorly she would not tell him if he asked. It was none of his business anyway.

They had talked about how glad they both were to have made it out of Haven alright and it had been impossibly endearing to see her blush faintly as she asked if he had left someone behind in Kirkwall. She had asked and he had answered noticing too late as he blurted out that specifically no woman in Kirkwall had caught his eye. He had kept his distance since then, his only way of reading her moods and physical health being his eyes as they assessed her from across the war table.

It was a drama how he could not speak properly when she was there. Why? He didn't really know himself. She was beautiful, very even if he needed to compare her to most of the women he had encountered. Her facial features were finely cut, sharp and yet soft in all the right places as was her physical appearance. For a woman her height she was extraordinarily delicate, but curvy and naturally graceful in the way she moved. More than any noble woman he had ever met.

He liked her well enough, sure what was not to like? But this behaviour was more than embarrassing for a man his age, behaving like a young boy in love with a beautiful girl for the first time.

Wait. What?

 _No. No. No...Just No! You are not in Love with that woman. First and foremost this is the Inquisitor you are thinking about and secondly she does not even show any sign of returning this...affection._ Now that he thought about it the Inquisitor was a very shy and private person. Not that he hadn't seen her laugh once or twice when she was talking to Varric or Dorian. Even with him, but the mage especially seemed to make her smile since he had joined them to help. A sudden wave of aversion pulsed through his veins.

What was that? He could not be jealous. No that was absurd. Him? Jealous? Unacceptable. He had to stop this line of thought.

 _Stop pondering and go on reading you fool._

* * *

Cloudreach: 9:33 Dragon age

I'm somehow exited and yet a little anxious. Father is coming to visit and he said he'd bring all my brothers and someone special with him for my sixteenth nameday. I can guess who it is already.

They are here. I have not seen my brothers in ages. They all are so tall and handsome and proud. They smiled when they saw me and I admit I started crying, because strange as it sounds they are the only ones around whom I still feel safe enough to show my emotions truly. I have missed them all terribly. The same counts for them. There was not an inkling of fear, or rejection in their demeanour towards me and I realize how blessed I am.

As my eyes had finally turned to my best friend though, my heart had stopped for a moment. Sebastian is probably the most dashing man I will ever encounter. He is twenty summers old now and I can only imagine how the women back in Starkhaven are swooned by his beautiful blue eyes in contrast to his reddish-brown hair, the aristocratic shape of his nose, the chiselled features and this sensual mouth that is turned up in a bright smile as our eyes met.

Just like when we where kids he took me in his arms an swirled me around in a circle, whispering a very familiar sentence in the old language of Starkhaven. I know what it means, because he taught me when we were children. We often would talk like that, laughing every time one of the servants would throw us a disturbed look from lack of understanding.

It was our little way of keeping, what we wanted to share, to ourselves. He kissed my cheek and wished me a happy nameday, promising he had something for me after I passed my Harrowing tonight. He laughed about my cheeks as they turned bright red and I tried to swat his shoulder, but he evaded me elegantly.

I think of my trial and it makes me nervous. What if I don't make it? Most of my family will be there, since all my brothers are templars now. Cedric is already soon to be Knight-Captain and father is so proud of him he says, yet once in a while I see this glimmer of sadness in his eyes, telling me that sometimes he wished his children had not taken the same path as himself.

I asked about mother and heard everything was fine, how sorry she was to not have made it. It's the same thing every year.

Once she wrote me a letter, telling me how sorry she was to have done this gruesome thing to me, that she never wanted any of us to go through what her father had. I don't know, but if she could not tell me the reason why she was so indifferent towards me when I was first discovered a mage then why tell me now?

Because I would be less sad about her rejection now that I was older? On the contrary. She left me eight years ago, no explanation, no tears, no farewell. If anything I felt even more betrayed now than before, knowing that she did not have the courage to tell me then.

How hard could that be? That's what happens if you don't talk to the people you care for. Things get misunderstood and turn into bad decisions. Maybe someday. I don't know. Maybe I'll write her back tomorrow and send it with Father telling her I'll need time to forgive her, but that maybe next year she could join us here.

If I make it until tomorrow.

Am I pathetic for wishing it were true that my mother did not hate me? That she simply felt guilty for condemning one of her children to a life in a tower?

I have passed my Harrowing! I still can´t believe it myself. I had wandered the Fade in my dreams before, talked to spirits and such, but never have I encountered a harmful spirit or demon. It felt so surreal that I'm not sure if I'm actually awake, or if I have succumbed to its advances and am just a puppet.

What am I saying? I am me! There is nobody else beside me in my mind.

They said the only other person they know to have passed so quickly is the woman they call the Warden now. A mage who was recruited to fend off the blight that was still terrorizing Thedas two years ago. I wonder why we didn't notice anything.

Maybe it's because we are too far North for it to have spread from Ferelden.

They would like to call me Senior Enchanter, but since I am not yet eighteen I'll have to wait until then. Father gave me one of his signature bearhugs in front of everyone, uncaring of the open display of affection, telling me how proud he is and I had to fight off the tears stinging my eyes.

I'm glad Father is the one to keep my Phylactery safe. Again I feel judged by everyone, because my father is the Knight-Commander of the Circle and I am lucky being a Noble's daughter. Of course we are taking advantage of it. Why shouldn't we?

I know they are right in some way. Why should I be able to leave or have more privileges than the others, even though I'm nothing but another filthy mage, cursed by the Maker to always defend my sanity against the demons waiting in the Fade and those lurking under the skin of the people in this world. It's not that we didn't try to keep it out of the open, but in a place filled with people, closed off from the outside world, nothing stayed hidden for long. At least since my run in with that young templar two years ago, just outside the tower, do they know something is even more strange.

The isolation stayed the same, so there was no change there.

After everyone had settled for the night I sat in my room, sprawled on the floor and enjoying the moonlight as it bathed everything in a soft ethereal glow. I heard a knock at my door and immediately a shiver ran down my spine. What could someone possibly want from me at this hour? I slowly moved towards the door, my left hand already prickling with lightning.

Until I heard Sebastian's voice carry through the wooden barrier. However he had managed to get rid of the templar, who normally waited in front of it I still don't know, he has not told me. The more alarmed was I when he suddenly took my hand to pull me along with him. I resisted telling him we were not allowed to leave our rooms after curfew, but he only smiled telling me in his old language that everything would be fine, again tugging at my hand and this time I did not resist.

Now that I think of it I could hit myself. What if we had been seen? I still can't believe we did not stumble upon anyone.

Holding hands we wandered the garden until we reached my favourite tree, its heavy branches casting shadows over us.

A small beam of moonlight hit Sebastian's eyes and I had to gasp at how otherworldly he had looked. His gaze caging me in its intensity.

I'm writing down what he said, even though I could hardly forget it. "I am so sorry a chridhe, for not coming to see you earlier. I unfortunately had troubles of my own, which kept me from seeing you since your thirteenth nameday," he said kissing my knuckles gently. The same way he had done so the last time we had seen each other.

Sebastian had never been afraid to touch me, not even after my magic had reared its ugly head. He had always had a gentle soul, but there was this sadness constantly present in his gaze. I had seen it in his eyes already three years ago. Something was amiss. He was hurting. And so I stretched out my other hand and touched his cheek, his head automatically leaning into my touch, yet his eyes were still on mine. I asked him what was wrong, feeling the need to apologize for not seeing it back then, clouded by my own crisis. It felt so petty now.

Again he had kissed my knuckles before speaking. "I have told you once how much I hated my parents for treating me like I was worth nothing for being the third son, yes?" I nodded and remembered how I had cursed them back then too for treating their child as if it was only a tool to file away into storage as soon as it had outlived its purpose.

I cursed them for it again now and earned myself one of his smiles, but it lacked its normal honesty. "I did something foolish a chroì," he began, his eyes hard. "In my youthful foolishness three years ago, I have tried to sully my families name and defy my father. He punished me and sent me off to the Chantry in Kirkwall." The regret was heavy in his voice.

That's why he had not been able to make it back since then. "Oh Sebastian," it had slipped from my mouth before I could control it. My voice heavy with pity, but before I could say any more he had touched his finger to my lips to quiet me.

"It's alright a chridhe ( _My heart_ ) I have already come to terms with it, though I have not forgiven him for treating me so inferior. It's actually not so bad to be taught in the Chantry. The meditation is especially liberating for the mind and I find myself more concentrated in my archery practice. So don't be sad for my sake. I will live with it."

His thumb on my lips turned into a gentle caress and his eyes regarded the rest of my face. "Tell me mo àlainn eun beag ( _My beautiful little bird_ ), how have you been?" I smiled and told him how I had missed him these past few years, because it was the truth.

The moment he drew me into his arms, I thought I never wanted to be held by any other man than him. This time when he let go he had this roughish little smile on his lips and I felt a weight dangling around my neck.

It was a delicate, little pendant on a braided Silverite chain. An owl, more specifically a barn owl, carved from an opal. Her wings spread in flight. Of all the expensive jewellery I had seen my mother wear, this was the most beautiful thing I had ever set eyes upon.

His gaze had turned a little sheepish as he watched my expression change and he said how much he had wanted to carve it himself, but how he had only been able to draw a sketch for the jeweller. I told him he was being foolish and that it was the best gift I had ever received. I would never take it off.

What he said next is actually too private even for a diary such is this, but I still want to read it in years to come and remember my first love as he was then, since he'll probably change in the future.

"Tha gaol agam ort a chridhe ( _I love you my heart_ ). Always. You know that right?" Tears had started to well up in my eyes while he said it and I could only nod for my throat had closed up by the emotion. "Tha gràdh agam ort cuideachd ( _I love you too_ )." I croaked finally.

And then his lips where on mine. A gentle whisper. Indescribably soft and warm. I had never been kissed before. It left my mind in utter disarray, my whole body tingling, warmth flooding my skin.

I will never forget the morning as I woke up encircled by his arms. His face relaxed and peaceful above me on the pillow.

It had still been early when I awoke him gently, watching as his clear blue eyes blinked at me blearily still heavy from sleep.

He looked so boyish that I had to laugh and earned myself a stern look and a little "punishment" before I had to throw him out, making certain no one else was awake yet.

I never told my father about the events of that night. He would have simply killed Sebastian on the spot. If I were just another noble, he would have gotten him to sign a marriage agreement right away, but I would never experience such bliss. Even my blood could not afford such exceptions.

I don't know what the future holds for both of us. Maybe Sebastian and I will always be friends, loving each other from far away. I know that he wants to take vows of chastity for the Makers blessing back in Kirkwall to pay penance for his behaviour before. All I can do is be there, if he ever needs me and be happy, should someday a woman cross his path, whom he'll revoke his vows for. Then I'll know she deserves to be the guardian of his heart. My gentle and dearest friend and once upon a time lover.

Solace: 9:35 Dragon Age

I write this even though I can hardly move my arm without feeling the same searing pain shooting up and down my spine, as when the templars uncontrollable Smite had hit me in the back.

I had been in the gardens teaching some of the younger mages about strengthening their mind against demons and how to use their Force Magic accordingly, when I saw how one of the others, attending the herb garden accidentally cut himself on the sharp hoes we use. Adjourning my group practice for a moment, I stepped over to him to look at his arm, which was bleeding profusely from a cut just over his wrist. He was still too young to know and just barely kept from crying, that I decided to heal him myself.

The next thing I noticed from the corner of my eye, was a dark figure stomping towards us, his sword raised. The moment I felt the air around me shift, I pulled the boy to my chest and turned my back towards the Smite that had been intended for him, without a moment of warning.

I still can't believe what had given the man, only a few years older than myself, the impression, that one of us or both, had been practising Blood Magic. I only remember the pain slicing through me as I was drained of my power, the unbearable heat tearing through my clothes. And then the world had turned black. I had found myself later lying on my stomach in the infirmary, cool compresses on my skin slightly dulling the burning, reaching from the base of my scalp to the small of my back.

I remember soft wrinkled hands patting my head, making me strain my neck to see who sat at my side.

The First Enchanter gazed down at me with his knowing green eyes. His expression sad. "I'm sorry child that you had to become victim to such fatal misunderstanding in our midst. Nobody really knows what Randel was really thinking when he saw you grabbing the poor boys hand to heal him."

"What will happen to him now?" I managed to say feeling my head becoming heavy again by the healing draughts they clearly had bathed me in, judging by the thick fog in my mind.

The first Enchanter had only shrugged. "He's probably being torn to pieces by your father at the moment for smiting his only daughter and almost killing her in the process." He sighed at my incredulous look and added. "Randel has not been called a templar for that long yet. His power still wild and hardly controllable. He brought you so close to death we don't know how it was possible for you to survive such an ordeal. You must be blessed by the Maker child."

I remember how I had snorted at him and then winced when agony blinded me. Still I was able to reply. "I don't think so your Honour. Don't you know the saying, "Those the Maker loves truly, he takes away young."?"

He had laughed about that and had patted my head again. I only remember him murmuring "Sleep child." before I drifted off.

The next day my father had come to visit, dragging a very sorry Randel along with him. "If you cannot heal her you can at least apologize for mistaking her for one of those leeches, before I haul your sorry ass back to school for the rest of your life." My father had announced grabbing the young man by his collar and setting him in front of me.

For a long moment there was complete silence in the room until he slowly stretched out his hand.

I put mine in his hesitantly, feeling the trembling in his muscles from fear. But he was gentle and cradled it in both of his, kneeling in front of me to look me in the eye.

"I am so sorry my Lady I had never intended to hurt you so. I will never be able to recuperate what I have done to you. I am so sorry." I had felt a little compassion towards him. Wounds of the flesh would heal eventually, but those of the mind stayed open for long if not forever.

"Just promise me that you'll tread more carefully the next time you have suspicions about Blood Magic. That'll be compensation enough for me." I had never seen a man cry openly in front of me before Randel had pressed his forehead to the back of his hand, still wound around mine and sobbed, all the while murmuring a "Thank you," and "I'm so sorry."

Later after he had gone and everything had settled down again, my father had come back to my bedside, taking my hand in his. He was quiet for a long time and I saw how sadness had etched itself deep into his normally handsome features, making him look years older. In the end it had been me again, who patted his hand telling him it would be fine.

The only thing he was able to reply then was, "You know that these kinds of burns leave a deep mark until the end of your days." Yes I knew. I had read it some time ago in my research about the origin of the Templar Order.

Again I patted his hand. "I know Da." I used the pet name I had given him as a small child, not able to say Father yet whenever he was upset about something.

"Does mother know already?" I asked into the silence hanging heavy in the room. He would tell her as soon as he came home, he said before giving me the biggest smile he could muster at that very moment, which was not very much, and kissed me on the temple.

My wonderful, caring father. Always so torn between the nature of the gentle guardian and the fierce, all overwhelming warrior. Never would I grow tired of telling him that it was not his fault that his daughter had come out a mage. Before that, the Fade would explode.

* * *

The next pages had been ripped out and the rest was empty, except for a small scribbling of a symbol, made of dots and three claw shaped markings at the end where it curved.

Taking in all he had read had him exhale deeply, rubbing his neck, strained from bowing over the book.

Looking at the notes in front of him Cullen was met by the evidence to his earlier assumptions. Only a blind man would not recognize the blatant parallels between the Lady Inquisitor and the author of this journal. But why hide it under the pretence the diary was not hers? And why give it to Cassandra?

Was there any chance it was not her? He had enough indicators to be certain, though he felt it would be tactless to approach her, since he had not been the originally planned recipient of it. Subtlety was not one of his stronger traits, when it came to people.

It hit him suddenly and in a wave of anger. This was a symbol of trust that she would share such intimate information with the Seeker and Cullen felt guilty, even if it had been done unknowingly, for spying into her privacy like this.

 _Maker grant me the sense to explain the matter to her...Please_

It was a strangely ironic picture, seeing the Inquisitor at the head of the dinner table, surrounded by this strongly diverging group of people which formed her Inner Circle. Varric was seated to her left and Dorian and Cassandra to her right along with the rest of the bunch. Leliana and Josephine were absent as always, probably still busy with war reports and maps, as would be his usual occupation, had he not other things on his mind.

Even bigger was the number of surprised looks he received by the attendants, as he took the seat between the Seeker and the huge Qunari, who gave him an acknowledging nod.

"Now now, what brings you to our table of merry thugs, mercenaries and the occasional noble Curly? Has even your tower finally had enough of you scowling at papers?" Varric teased, sending the Lady beside him a wink that made her smirk as she watched his reaction. Sighing to keep his temper in check he replied, "No, Ser Tethras. Despite the mountains of paperwork trying to drown me, I felt the need of at least a little friendly banter, some warm food for a change and a good cup of heated wine."

That had at least some of them close their mouths from trying to give a witty remark at his expense and the rest was silenced by the Lady Herald as she raised her own goblet. "Then I hope you'll enjoy this fine company as much as I do Commander." A cheer erupted from the group and he saw how Dorian beside her whispered something into the Ladies ear, that had her laugh heartily. He had never seen her so relaxed before. Well he had never had dinner with her and her group either.

Cassandra beside him gave him a light shove with her shoulder to draw his attention. "It is good to see you in our midst Cullen. I feared I'd get another scolding from the Inquisitor tonight on your behalf." The befuddled look on his face had her explain. "The Lady Trevelyan always feels terribly guilty for her advisors working themselves into the ground, while she has dinner with everyone. She makes sure to send trays to each person who is not able to attend."

So that had been the reason for the filled trays suddenly appearing inside his office whenever he had missed dinner.

Whoever delivered it never made any noise to draw his attention. He didn't know Skyholds servants could be so sneaky and if he should be delighted or rather alarmed at that fact.

Taking a sip from his wine his gaze, even though watching the whole of the group, inevitably wandered to her, observing her as she conversed with those close to her. How her long blonde tresses would catch flickers of the fire drawing out its red undertone and every now and then her hand would wander to the silver chain around her neck, curling it between her fingers.

If it included a pendant he could not tell, for the long chain disappeared beneath the neckline of her tunic. Feeling eyes on him Cullen looked up and was met by cerulean blue looking at him inquiringly, stilling her hand until she was yet again distracted by one of the others.

Dinner had seemed to pass far too quickly and he had found himself walking back to his tower alongside Solas, who wished him a good night before disappearing in his own quarters at the base of the library. As much as he had wanted to clear up the mistake he had made, Cullen had been neglecting his true workload all day and now had to face the consequences. Not that he minded. Not truly at least, since he had not had a good nights rest since almost a year ago. Hell, since Kinloch.

Time passed and the only sounds in his office where the scratching of his quill on paper and the muted sound of wind and animal chatter, coming through the hole in the tower's roof. He didn't know how long he had been at it when the sudden, quiet closing of the door to his left had him jump from his chair and rush out onto the battlements. Everything was quiet, the only movement he could make out coming from the guards patrolling the courtyard and walls of the great fortress.

Glancing upwards he could see light in the windows of Skyhold's highest tower. He was not the only one still awake. Sighing he thought back to the matter at hand. Either his withdrawal had made him become paranoid already, or some of the servants loved to play tasteless pranks. The first thing he noticed, as soon as he entered his office again, was the smell. Elfroot, Honey, Cinnamon and a hint of Vandal Aria. Just the way he liked it. He couldn't remember ever telling the servants about it.

He was too tired and busy to wreck his head by trying to figure out every strange phenomenon that happened around him right now.

* * *

If you made it this far without returning to the main page, thank you very much for reading and I'm sorry for any more bad typo or grammatical mistakes!

Yes I used quit a lot of Scots Gaelic for interactions with Sebastian, but I really love to add it whenever he is involved. Anyway here are translations and I tried to give you an idea how it could sound (No phonetic script):

a chride: "My heart" (spoken: a hrije)

mo àlainn eun beag: "My beautiful little bird" (spoken: Mo aaling ian beg)

Tha gaol agam ort a chridhe: "I love you my heart" (spoken: ha gɯːL agam orsht a hrije) gaol sounds a lot like the French word gueule for mouth of an animal, only pronounced softer ;) (sometimes used as a curseword "Ta gueule!" - Shut your trap!)

Tha gràdh agam ort cuideachd: "I love you too." (spoken: ha gra agam orsht kutshachrk) Last word is a nightmare to find anything similar...

I'll spare you the proper phonetic script, since it is another scientific process in itself.

Anyone who is able to speak any form of Gaelic I applaud you for your tenacity to learn this language. I'm always enchanted by it's beauty.

Cheers!


	2. Part 2 - Ghosts of Skyhold

Here's part two. Hope you like it :)

* * *

Part 2 - Ghosts of Skyhold

Skyhold was a curious place. Cullen had felt it the moment he had set foot over its threshold. Maybe it was due to the old Elven magic in the walls, but there was something in the air especially at night, that gave the whole castle a haunted character. No matter how many people were standing with you, it felt eerily alone in the long dark corridors.

A few days ago he had overheard two servants whispering in the great hall. "I'm telling you I'll never walk around the castle after midnight again." One had said. "Why? you afraid of the dark?" The other had mocked. "No I'm not. But this place is cursed I'm telling you. I heard a woman's voice singing some old child song. It makes me shiver just thinking about it. Her voice was high and soft and the way it echoed in every hallway made me nearly run back to my quarters. Besides I heard one of the soldiers mention he saw an animal walk around the courtyard the other night. Something that looked like a wolf just bigger, the fur all black but the eyes a glowing green. Believe me or not I'll have my shifts changed."

Though he was no man to give much thought to gossip such as this, Cullen felt slightly curious after hearing that and soon a huge part of Skyhold was whispering about the castle being haunted at night. It went so far that even the soldiers picked for the nightshift started to become uneasy.

That was when he decided to look into it himself. Afraid of some stray dog and singer. He had to scoff at that thought. _Probably just one of Sera's pranks she loves so much._

The following night he was still at his desk brooding over reports, when he caught sight of the moon through the hole of his roof. _As far as I know it should be well after midnight now. Guess it's time to find myself a ghost...or whatever it is._ He thought blowing out the candles surrounding him before he left for the door leading to the main building. Since everyone had turned in for the night it was quiet in the scarcely lit corridors. There was no noise beside the sound of his steps, having abandoned most of his armour back at his office he could only hear the rustling of fabric.

There was nothing until he entered the catacombs. There he heard it. The shuffling of feet, a door opening and someone, a woman, singing the soft tune of a song he had almost completely forgotten. Beside his disbelieve in ghosts he felt a shiver run down his spine at the eerie echo the walls around him created.

 _I've got no strings_

 _To hold me down_

 _To make me fret, or make me frown_

 _I had strings_

 _But now I'm free_

 _There are no strings on me_

And then he saw the open door at the end of the hallway he had just turned into. The voice seemed to come from there.

Moving slowly he crept along the cold stone wall at his back. As he reached the door he thought about the right way of approach. Fast and surprising, risking to chase away whatever was in there, or to first asses the situation by risking a careful look.

He decided on the latter and was rather surprised about what he saw. There was a woman standing in an old hidden library and singing to herself. It was no other than the Inquisitor herself, dressed in a long flowing light blue nightgown, that seemed too wide at the top, for it slipped down at the shoulder, revealing creamy white skin beneath it. There was something else he could not see clearly from his position, but judging by the looks of it he'd say it was a scar.

Admittedly this made her look a little like a ghost, especially in the way the moonlight seeped in from narrow windows, making her look frail. Her skin almost glowing ethereally.

Whatever he did next would startle her he knew, deciding to knock quietly. As he had predicted she spun around her eyes wide with fright until they recognized him, leaning mostly relaxed against the wooden frame.

"Commander Cullen. I didn't think you'd still be awake. Or Anyone for that matter," she said a slight tremor in her voice while she straightened her robe. The only thing she achieved though was to attract his gaze and Cullen was startled to see how the garment had become visibly see-through, revealing the outlines of her figure underneath.

Soft curves and the perfect shape of an hourglass. He had not noticed that he'd stopped breathing, until a soft clearing of her throat refocused his attention and he finally answered, "Uh, well yes. As much as I stare them down, the mountain of papers only decreases by actually looking them over I'm afraid. Aside from that, I had heard some rumors from the servants, regarding a ghost that seemed to haunt Skyhold and I came to investigate. You don't look dead to me in the slightest, though that song is positively unnerving reverberating from the walls like this. Not that I'm saying it sounds gruesome. I think your voice is lovely." And there he had done it again. It had started out as a simple explanation and had ended with him embarrassing himself in front of her. _Bravo Cullen._

The smile she gave him was sheepish, but genuine. And with heated cheeks she breathed a quiet "Thank you."

"If I may ask, what's keeping you from your own bed my Lady? Is something troubling you?" He watched as her smile faded, her gaze dropped and she turned towards the bookshelf again, her fingers caressing the dust covered backs. "I have been experiencing twisted, but also very vivid nightmares. It's not that I did not have them before, but they have become a constant in my sleepingpatterns." She looked at him as she made a gesture regarding the whole room.

"So I decided to spend my time otherwise, instead of trying to go back to sleep. Like researching the Fade. I hope I did not cause too much trouble. I was neither aware of what my singing might cause, nor was it my intention to scare anyone."

Cullen was not sure how to respond to the former so he addressed the latter first. "I think nobody will think ill of you, if you explain it to them. And about your dreams," he scratched the back of his neck. "well I could fetch you a cup of tea and lend you my ear if you wished." He Regretted his offer instantly. What comfort could he possibly offer? He the man who wandered the hallways of Skyhold himself, deprived of sleep for years and years to come. A little scoff beside him pulled him out of his inner monologue and he only saw a cloud of blue silk flutter past him before he heard her say.

"Thank you Commander. I'll think on your offer, but I would not mind you following me to the kitchens. You look in dire need of a cup yourself. And maybe an ear as well." She had added the last part with a wink and a smile over her shoulder, as she floated down the corridor, not waiting for him to follow.

The kitchens were of course abandoned at this hour, ambers faintly glowing in the fireplace. Cullen feared if they decided to stay, there'd soon come the time when the staff would interrupt their conversation, to prepare breakfast for every inhabitant of the keep. Pushing this thought aside for the moment, he was more surprised of seeing the Inquisitor swiftly skimming the shelves, collecting whatever she needed for preparing two cups of tea, though he noted the water inside each cup had not been steaming before she had touched it for a moment.

Sometimes it was so easy for him to forget that she was a mage. Mostly because her whole demeanour did not resemble that of other mages he had met. She was quiet yes, but not fearful and self-conscious. More like a gentle breeze, that came and went sometimes without having anyone notice. Now that he thought about it, she really had him curious about what dreams could ale her to keep her awake at night, wandering the corridors of Skyhold by herself, singing a tune that made the hair on his arms stand on edge. Was she by any chance being chased by demons in the Fade?

Reaching for his cup he noticed how she had used all his favourite ingredients. "How did you know this was the way I preferred my tea?" He had asked before he could stop himself and watched as she tried to hide her expression behind her own cup. He waited patiently for her answer and was rewarded with her finally looking him in the eye again, instantly entranced by how incredibly blue they were. "I noticed it the other day in the war room and it's similar to what I like. I use Prophet's Laurel instead of Vandal Aria though, since it mostly helps people who suffer from constant shaking or stress. It calms the nerves quite strongly." That seemed to make her pause. "Is the stress causing you harm Commander?"

Her ability of observation and reading people had always fascinated, albeit unsettled him in the past. "Not as much as in Kirkwall, but that's not the main reason why I like to drink it. It does as you said calm the nerves before a fight or helps me sleep sometimes. Not anymore lately but well, a topic for another time maybe."

That's when Cullen felt her hand on his arm, warmth seeping through the cotton of his tunic. "Then maybe we should trade. From one sleep deprived soul to another." Her smile was encouraging and before he knew it, she was pulling him along with her, her delicate hand fitting perfectly in his big, rough and callused one. He had only experienced this soft side of hers once before and so he walked beside her a little dumbstruck.

He could have sworn he saw a blush creep up her neck as they walked. What he noticed as he studied her back more closely made his heart clench painfully for a moment. He had been right, there was a scar. From the base of her neck all the way down to the curve of her spine from the looks of it. And of course not any kind of scar. The rough shape of a lightning bolt with hundreds of little tendrils reaching out. He knew those scars all too well. It was true what they said about them not being treatable, other than decreasing the pain until the tissue had closed up.

There had not been many mages in Kirkwall with this kind of mark. Mostly because few did survive an uncontrolled Smite. _Inconceivable how much pain she must have been in back then._

Before he knew it he was seated on a comfortable couch, gazing into the flames burning in the fireplace of the Inquisitors suite. Even thinking about being were she slept had his cheeks burn. How had he come from looking for a ghost to exchanging stories with the Inquisitor in her own quarters? The more he thought about it, the clearer it became that he actually did not mind. Not a bit. It felt right to be here, sitting on her couch with her to his right snuggled into the cushions, her legs pulled up on top of the padding and looking just as content as him. Although a little lost.

"I promised I would go first so," she began hesitantly. "Why I cannot sleep. I don't sleep well because sometimes I'm afraid of what to do next. Since I have obviously become the person people come running to for the hard decisions. I awake in the middle of the night, panic clutching at my chest, my heart racing, hands cold from sweat, trembling and my mind running in circles. What to do next? And after that? And then?"

Cullen had not been aware of what all this was doing to her. But it made sense. From being a prisoner, interrogated in a cold, dark cell, blamed for something she had not caused, to the symbol of a Maker she did not really believe in and chosen as the leader of an army, though she'd never had the ambition to fight. A terrible amount of pressure.

His silence had her continue her monologue.

"Other times I'm back at the circle. A child alone and disregarded by everyone around her. In those dreams even my loving father would be cold and distant. All I see when I look at their faces are demons. Whispering, clawing at my mind. Then suddenly I'm back at Haven. Flames devouring houses and their occupants, licking at their smoking corpses. The smell of burned flesh, blood and metal filling the air. Choking me. The deafening cry of the monster and a creature out of purgatory itself. His breath burning me, pain spreading in my arm. And then utter cold darkness. Hopeless scrambling to find leverage on the slippery floor of the cave. Agony pulsing through my veins. I'm alone as always..."

The way her breath caught in her throat had him turn to see tears trail down her cheeks. Had she been silently crying the whole time? Maker he had wished to be of help when he had offered her his ear, not have her drown in despair.

Seeing her in tears had him torn between, wanting to touch her, cradle her in his arms and soothe her worries, and to better keep his distance, feeling intrusive towards her private ailment.

And so the only thing he allowed himself, was to take her hand in both of his, automatically leaning forward to look into her eyes. "I'm sorry I got a little lost there. They are just dreams after all." She said dismissively while wiping the tears away with her hand and smiling at him. It did not however reach her eyes, red rimmed as they were. She strangely had never looked more beautiful.

"Right now I feel especially pathetic making you listen to my whimpering." He silenced her by brushing back the hair that had fallen into her eyes, his hand lingering gently on her cheek. Hearing her trembling intake of breath had him press ahead.

"Don't be sorry my Lady. Dreams often tend to concentrate our deepest fears, or painful memories. It only proofs our lack of consideration on your behalf. Pushing you too hard and expecting too much at once. Even for someone as gifted as you are this of course would be a traumatic experience." After a moment of looking into his eyes she sighed and said. "You're right. I never wanted any part of this. But now I'm here and I have promised to help. So that's what I will do. As best as I can at least."

"And we will be with you every step of the way. But you need to tell us when things become too overtaxing, or if you are not comfortable with playing the Game." He had to chuckle at that. "I know I am." It earned him the first real smile of the night and Cullen was relieved to have been able to distract her from her worries. It also reminded him that his hand was still on her cheek, his thumb gently caressing her soft skin.

He had to leave. It was neither the right moment nor was he the right man to be with her. As much as he may have wanted to stay and tell her about the diary. Another time perhaps. And so he turned to leave, but not before he had kissed the knuckles of her hand gingerly and wished her to finally find rest. Her reply was soft and had it not been perfectly quiet in that moment he would have missed it. "To you too. I do hope there'll be rest for the wicked."

* * *

The song is part of Pinocchio if you didn't recognize it. And I know you may associate it with "Age of Ultron". It was an ingenious idea to use it in the movie and James Spader is just awesome! The moment I thought of her being liberated from the tower this instantly came to mind so I had to put it in there.

Not mine: Music and lyrics by Leigh Harline and Ned Washington

Hope you enjoyed :D Cheers!


	3. Part 3 - What am I without you?

Okay part three is special since it mostly focuses on Cullen. I hope I hit the mood properly. I listened to the Soundtrack to Jane Eyre from 2011 (Michael Fassbender and Mia Wasikowska) Those of you who know it will know how heart-breaking it is in some parts^^. To those who don't know it: I really recommend to watch the film and listen to the Soundtrack. It's awesome.

Now on with the story. Hope you enjoy!

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Part 3 - What am I without you?

The western Approach. He had only read about it in books and reports. A merciless and treacherous place. It was covered in poisonous, fog exuding, hot springs throughout its centre and made many regions inaccessible. The Inquisitor had however pointed out, that she had found scripts about construction plans regarding towers that would be used as some sort of chimney to redirect the emissions elsewhere. How she had stumbled upon it had even the Spymaster throw him a surprised glance.

Nobody actually knew if, or how she may have established a way of communicating with others outside the regular use of birds, or if she simply had stumbled upon it in the hidden Library. Did it really matter? He wondered that afternoon, while watching the group of companions she would take with her the next day at sunrise, collect everything they needed in the yard. She seemed to rise to become the leader they all had needed. Strong, reliable, resourceful, clever, charismatic. And she was good. She always seemed to mock those who called her so openly, but just watching her converse with the people closest to her, had him envious of the obvious affection and tenderness she practiced towards them.

Subtle. A slight touch here, a mended minor wound there, the exchange of a gentle smile and hushed words of encouragement towards her Inner Circle of friends. One he did not count himself among. Besides the night he had consoled her, he had not been her friend. Not really. Yes he had picked her out of the snow when he had seen something green shimmer in the distance. Had warmed her with his body heat under his fur coat as she threatened to freeze to death. She did not know and that meant it didn't mean anything.

He was a bystander she passed whenever she would practice with Dorian or one of the others in the courtyard. Exchange a few words in the war room. Nothing more. And yet a little voice in the back of his mind would still whisper to him when he was alone in his quiet tower. Words of hope mentioning how he had, every night since they had talked in the kitchens, found a steaming cup of tea on his desk accompanied by a note, carrying little quotes that made him smile, whenever he would get ready for another night of reports and fleeting amounts of sleep.

Hope. Something he had had to learn again after Kinloch. Void after Kirkwall. He was still lost some times. Most of the time.

 _Get it together man! First: Stop pitying yourself and second: You have grown since then. It's not supposed to be perfect from the beginning so man up and stop whining._

Again the Commander's mind had decided to wander towards her diary and so his head was inclined over said tome, when he heard the knock at his door. Dusk was falling outside his windows, bathing the room in soft reds and oranges. He had missed her coming in and so was startled when she leaned over his shoulder. "Where did you get this?" she asked calmly, though he could have sworn to have heard an edge in her voice just then. There went his subtle way of explanation.

"Cassandra handed it over to me. She strangely thought I'd be better suited to read it." The words poured out of his mouth like a waterfall. "I never intended to pry into your life like this and I'm incredibly sorry." Cullen fell silent, not knowing what he could add to avert the undoubtedly awkward situation and instead lifted his eyes, after having futilely searched the room for anything other to look at than her, as his mind reeled. Her expression was unreadable, cold even, while her eyes appeared fixed on the book, yet she was worlds away.

An eternity seemed to have passed until she finally spoke again. "She didn't read it then." Her conclusion sounded disheartened and Cullen's heart ached at the obvious hurt reflecting in her eyes as their gazes locked.

"I'm sorry." Maker he was weak, but he couldn't find the right words. What could he ever say to make this less hurtful. "If that is all Commander I wish you a good night until we meet again when I come back." And without another glance over her shoulder, she practically fled from his office, her back straight as a stick, legs rigid.

He wished he could go after her and make this go away, but he couldn't. In the name of Andraste did he want to smack that insensible, blockheaded brute of a Seeker for her blind disregard. Had she not understood an inkling of what she had been reading until he had interrupted her?

By the time his thoughts stopped raging, he astonishingly found himself standing in the middle of a scarcely lit main-hall. It's usual attendants slowly fanning out towards their respective resting places as night descended. Those remaining being himself, the soldiers on duty and the ever present Dwarf who was scribbling away at his parchment by the fire. _And he berates me a workaholic._

Ignoring him for now, Cullen went off to search for her. After visiting her quarters without success, his search widened until he finally reached the hidden library in the network of corridors in the cellar. It was as if she had disappeared into thin air.

He eventually ended up back in the main-hall, letting his gaze drift through the empty space, regarding the unoccupied seat at the head of the tall room with an unintentional longing in his eyes until he turned away with as sigh. Approaching the side-door that lead to his tower, Cullen was stopped in his tracks by a scratchy voice from beside the fire. "Didn't find what you've been looking for, huh Curly? Or should I say whom?" Breathing in deeply through his nose, his eyes closed for a moment, as he centered himself, before turning to be met with the Dwarf's seemingly always smug looking face. Swallowing his pride and general distrust towards the man, Cullen asked. "Yes in fact I didn't. You wouldn't happen to know of the Inquisitors preferred location to avoid detection, would you Varric. And before you give me one of your remarks about a hiding place losing it's purpose if it is known, let me tell you that me finding her is of great importance."

"You wound me Curly. I would never expect you scurrying around like a scared chicken to be anything less than of great importance to the Inquisition." He said with a wink. "I however, have not seen to were our lovely leader has literally run off to when she passed me earlier. This doesn't happen to have anything to do with the journal she was clutching to herself like a schoolgirl a few days back, does it." This damn Dwarf and his awfully accurate deduction skills.

He had no time for this. "Oh forget it. I'm not here to feed your lust for tasty bits of information on peoples private affairs." He spat pinching the bridge of his nose, having reached the limit of his patience. "Just promise me one thing Varric. In all honesty," and his golden eyes bore down on him with fierce determination setting them aflame. "Have her back out there, or so the Maker help me I'll hunt you for the rest of your miserable existence."

Varric thought he had just imagined the quiet "Please," the tower of a man had uttered under his breath, before rushing through the door in a blur of red, had he not seen the desperation that had stolen itself onto his face.

 _Boy the man has it bad._

* * *

He had not seen to what he had opened his door that night, even if it was but a tiny gap. It was enough.

The days seemed to float passed, leaving him cold and numb. Cullen had drowned himself in his work. All the while, old demons raging inside his head. They were always present at the back of his mind, tightly leashed by his will to never be so mindless and obedient as he had been during his service to the Chantry. But something had brought them forward now and with every wave that his body and mind fought the battle of Lyrium-deprivation, did he plummet a little deeper into the sinkhole of his very own brand of madness. And they were worse than ever. Constant headaches made thinking almost impossible. His knees sometimes giving out on him, fortunately mostly in the solitude of his study. The constant pain making his day to day a new kind of hell.

Sometimes during his more alert moments, did his hands feel for the straps that held the mutilated parts of his soul together. Trying to fasten them again. Tie down the darkness, that seeped through the cracks, spilling over his hands in a dark acrid liquid, that if it enclosed his spirit in its entirety, would eat away at the rest of his being and devour Cullen till nothing would be left.

These were also the times when his mind would use her to embody the parts that were still fighting to regain control. She was his sun, the only thing that could reign in the darkness, even if it was just for a little while. Her gentle smile, warm caresses and words of affection, giving him hope to one day emerge free from this nightmare, that haunted his existence.

But how could she ever see him as something else than a threat, when it could be so easy for him to destroy her. He had done it before. Countless men and women had fallen by his blade, or had been stripped of their power at his command. He was a monster. Just like the Red Templars.

To the outside world he had become increasingly heartless, his recruits had even started to avert their eyes whenever he'd pass them on the battlements. While Josephine had seized to try to appeal to him after having a taste of his foul mood first hand, Leliana had proven more reluctant, even cruel in the way she dragged him out of his tower every morning, knowing perfectly well he'd emerge eventually for the soldiers morning drills. She even had the audacity to watch him as he instructed his charges, giving him a stern look whenever he'd take it too far.

Even the cold of the Emprise could not cool his temper in the days it took him to establish a decent outpost there. His pursuit of Red Templar footholds methodical, relentless and without any sign of mercy. There were whispers among some of the men, that a demon must have gotten to their Commander, or that a bloodthirsty mage loomed in the shadows behind him, only awaiting the Inquisitor's return upon which he'd have her slaughtered by her own Commander. Those who knew him personally had no better explanation to the why, but they recognized the old Cullen stepping forward and that did not bode well.

This went on until the day he had had enough of Leliana's surveillance and rounded on her one afternoon in his office, after another taxing training exercise, additional to trembling hands and a skull splitting headache he had sported since that morning. "For both our sakes stop chewing at my heals and mind your own damn business! I've had about enough of you meddling in my affairs." He practically growled at her.

"Then stop behaving like a child Commander." She spat back with special emphasize on his title. "It is everything else but meddling if your affairs affect your work. I told you before to stay away from her because I knew nothing good would come of any entanglement with the Inquisitor. You..."

He cut her off harshly. "There is nothing between me and the Inquisitor. You of all people should know that, considering how you are always nose deep in others personal life Spymaster."

"Then I don't understand how you can let yourself be controlled by your current mood as you are. This? Is not you anymore and deep down you know how foolish it all is. This is the broken man I saw after we pulled his sorry shell out of Kinloch. The man I still saw when Cassandra convinced me you were the right man for the job."

After a moment of complete silence she turned to leave, but not before looking to him one last time. "Figure it out! The you right now, is not what we need for this plan to work. If you can rein in whatever you are fighting in that pretty head of yours? Fine! If not, I'll be awaiting your letter of resignation on the war table."

Snap.

As soon as she was out of sight, he crumbled in on himself. The spell broken by harsh words, that rammed the truth into his stupefied mind. His eyes opening wide and seeing clearly for the first time in weeks.

What had he been doing all this time since the Inquisitor's departure? It was as if he had not been the one holding the reins any longer. All this time quietly watching the Abyss until it had watched back, piercing and ripping apart every conscious thought, all logic going up in flames. What had he been thinking? How could he have himself become so weak? Yielding!

 _No more!_

And he swore to himself and the Maker, that never again would he undermine everything he had worked so hard to achieve, by throwing himself over the edge into the void. This was not the man he had made of himself. Not the man he had decided to be as he left the shackles of the Chantry behind.

And in regard of the Lady Trevelyan, he'd either start making his intentions clear, or he'd have to live with being on the side lines because he chose to.

I admit I had to rewrite this part completely, since the old version was god-awful...so bad xD. Anyway I hope I could grasp the mood right and could deliver the emotions properly.

Thanks for reading!

Gwen :)


	4. Part 4 - Confessions

Hey finally part 4 :D Short explanation to those who forgot, or didn't know: Ma Falon means my friend in Elven ;)

* * *

Part 4 - Confessions

The sand was literally everywhere. Her shoes, her trousers, her smalls, damn void even in her teeth. Cassandra hated this place as soon as they had arrived. Her gaze would frequently fall onto the woman leading the party beside her. The woman they had chosen to be their Inquisitor seemed to be deep in thought since they had left, a frown on her face, chewing on her lower lip vehemently every now and then. This lasted until they stumbled over the first Venatori.

Cassandra knew that the Lady Trevelyan was comparable to a quiet pond, but most didn't really fathom how deep it went. Her hands had been clenching and unclenching for a while, but as soon as she had sighted their enemies, they had crackled with lightning, eyes getting this eerie green shimmer she had noticed after the Herald had started to look further in Rift magic aside from her Knight-Enchanter training. An endeavour that had the Seeker a little worried, since it was still a very new concept to magic that had cost many people their life and mind since the appearance of the Breach. Especially that cross-eyed delegate they had sent to teach her its specifics had Cassandra's hair stand on end. This woman had stuck her head into a rift a few times too often.

Sometimes when she watched the Lady Trevelyan back at Skyhold, may it be training with Dorian or just conversing with the people surrounding her, she never seemed anything but sovereign. As if nothing could faze her. So it was no surprise that everybody would push their worries onto her, making her into the sole carrier of the fate of Thedas. It was almost unsettling how she took all these obstacles in stride. And if Cassandra had not seen it before, blinded by her own admiration and worship, then she started to see it now. The woman was crumbling. Slowly. For now this pressure only seemed to express itself as additional vigour while facing enemies, but they definitely needed to do something about her responsibilities when they got back.

It was a fortnight into their journey through the desert, as the two women where sitting around the fire to banish the bitter cold of the night that had seeped into their bones, when the mage finally breached the subject of her worries. "So you gave the journal to Cullen?" Cassandra blinked a little irritated, before she remembered the little tome. "Yes. I thought he would be more experienced with the circles in the Free Marches than me. Was I not supposed to?" The mage's hand went into her hair, opening the band that kept it in a loose ponytail most of the time and shook out the waves of gold and copper hair sighing. The normally silken strands, now caked with sweat and blood. How she craved a bath right about now. "To be honest with you Cassandra, no I did not want for the Commander to read it. It was meant for your eyes only."

"So I understand that it is in fact your diary." The Seeker stated, flinching as she finally picked up on her mistake. The Herald nodded. The nevarran noble had proven to inhere a gentle soul, whose affinity for sentimentality had her dreaming of romance, knightly honour and everlasting love. It was what had given Helena the idea concerning her journal, in the first place, but in her overzealousness and at the same time fear of rejection, she had not uttered a word mentioning the owner.

"Why give it to me then?" Her normally vibrant blue eyes where almost black against the firelight, only its flames being reflected in their depths as she looked at Cassandra. "Because we have become very good friends, no? I thought you deserved some answers. Though I see my mistake in not telling you openly it was mine back then." Combing her fingers through her tangled mane, she huffed angrily as she only worsened the mess. "Dammit Cassandra I felt foolish enough just handing it over to you. You can't imagine how mortified I would have been in case I had told you it was mine from the start and you would have asked me the same question back then. Just as ashamed and foolish as I feel right this moment actually." Helena buried her face in her hands and groaned. "And now I have Cullen to deal with, who suddenly knows more about me than I wanted to tell him. At least not yet. Not this way."

"What's so different now that he found out? How bad can the thoughts of a circle mage be?" The Seeker inquired. "He probably thinks maker knows what of me and all I did the night I discovered it in his possession, I ran like the coward I am." The last bit was muffled by her arms as she hid her face in the crook of her elbow. "I just despise myself right now."

Cassandra had never seen her so beside herself and this meant a lot. Never in her life would she use the term coward to describe the younger woman, whose bravery, cunning and ingenuity in handling political matters had astonished her right from the start. A warm compassionate smile slowly spread on the Seeker's face the moment she recognized the familiar misjudgement of what one reflected to the outside world, in contrast to the soul that truly inhabited a person. Her gloved hand squeezing the Inquisitor's shoulder in assurance, she said soothingly "I'm sure if you talk to him when we get back all this won't be an issue. The Commander is a very reasonable man, despite his experience with mages."

"I really do hope so. We sure had our disputes back at Haven and I always sensed him to be on his guard around me. No matter how enjoyable our little verbal duels were." She sighed again deeply. "Maybe it's the Templar inside him, I don't know. He's very hard to read beyond that. No, Contradictory is the proper way I would use to describe him. Except when he's embarrassed, then he is an open book. I'm not saying his stance towards me hasn't changed. If anything it's almost unsettling how caring he has become and," Helena stopped abruptly, before her rambling would reveal any more embarrassing details. The woman beside her only considered her with a knowing smirk. Cassandra had almost hoped for the two to get together at some point since the day she had spied them conversing animatedly in the middle of the frozen lake.

Composing her features and straightening beside her the Seeker concluded "I for my part am sorry to have blindly disregarded your gift, as inconspicuous as it might have been. I should have paid closer attention. Let me just say how much I have come to appreciate your presence and part in all this. You are like the sister I always wished for and you can come to me with any concerns you might have in the future," Cassandra offered, wrinkling her nose as she added "Except if it involves any physical matters." That earned her a playful shove and an amused giggle from her companion. "Good night Cassandra."

The keep was theirs. Finally. It had taken its toll on them though and every Inquisition soldier could feel the tension dissipating as soon as the last occupant fell. No one wanted to admit it, but they were all exhausted. Almost four months existing of traveling in unbearable heat, wading through Darkspawn, building paths across the sulfuric hot springs and killing a dragon, because they had to test that stupid lure. And now the keep. It was a blessing that nobody had been infected and only few majorly injured had to be tended to. Cassandra however had had enough. The rest would have to be handled by emissaries. "All right I'll say what everyone is thinking. Pack up and let's go home at dawn."

There were no objections. Of course not. They had done what they had come for. Scout the desert, find out what the Wardens were doing here, close the rifts and establish an outpost. At least the foundation for such was lain and the main person responsible for any further handlings, already in place. And so everyone busied themselves with collecting whatever they'd need for the journey home, if a little slower than usual.

* * *

It was another endlessly slow passing two weeks in which the Commander had meditated most of the time and had finally found his way back to a state, that felt more like himself outside the withdrawal episodes. Also the soldiers had noticed the change and a more relaxed atmosphere had settled over the practice ring again.

The summer had come to pass in Skyhold, but it felt more like a mild spring in the Free Marches being so high in the mountains and close to Ferelden's even harsher climate. It was none the less a time to enjoy every ray of sunlight one could get and so most of its inhabitants spent their days in the courtyard and gardens of the huge keep, or the fields surrounding it.

The sun had been shining relentlessly and now that dusk was falling, did the stonewalls of the fortress still emanate warmth off of the rough surface, keeping the oncoming chill of the night at bay for a little while longer. The moment he heard the clattering of hooves as they trotted over the stone bridge to Skyhold the Commander stepped out of his office to watch their arrival. What he saw had him rush down the stone steps, only stopping when he had reached the person he had not been able to dispel from his mind, who was trying to hold herself upright in the saddle, her form dangerously swaying in exhaustion. Others were joining them to help the tired travellers and saw to their horses.

She was drained he could see and feel that clearly, but what worried him more was the bloodied bandage over one of her eyes. Swiftly relieving her of her staff and the stirrups, Cullen reached up and pulled her down, without waiting for permission and only set the Inquisitor on her feet reluctantly as she resisted his grip on her, but still keeping his arm around her shoulders, slowly leading her towards the steps to the keep. "I'm fine Commander you don't have to fuss over me." Fine? Who was she trying to convince? The way she put her weight on him and the dark circles under her healthy eye, clear testimony that she was definitely not fine. "Please my Lady have one of the healers check you over. You're pale as a ghost."

Without a word the Inquisitor stepped out from under his arm and took a few tentative steps forward before he saw her knees buckle. It only took him two strides to catch her, this time simply grabbing her behind the knees and lifting her as if she weighed nothing. Cullen noticed with dismay, that despite being clad in full armour, she was rather light and his concern for her only grew stronger in its intensity. Carrying her up the stairs as swiftly as he could, her head tucked under his chin, he was aware of the worried looks everyone they passed threw their way and called to the next best soldier he could find to send a healer to the Herald's tower.

"It's nothing serious Commander please. I'm just exhausted and dirty. It'll need cleaning at best and some of the ointment I made of Elfroot to keep down the inflammation. You worry too much." She explained, fatigue lining her voice, reducing it to a quiet murmur. He scoffed. "Stop downplaying everything that happens to you as if it were nothing. If anything were to happen to you. Maker I don't want to imagine it." He had not wanted for it to sound as chiding as it did, or as desperate. Neither was he comfortable with the feelings it stirred inside him. In that moment he could have not cared less though. He was glad she was back in one piece. She could be cross with him later. The whole scenario felt uncomfortably familiar to the night when he had picked her from the snow after Haven, not freezing this time, but just as exhausted. Her reply was almost swallowed by the rustling of clothes and armour, echoing through the staircase to her tower. "My, my Commander. One could assume you almost cared about my well-being." He considered her smart mouth being intact as a good sign.

He set her down on the soft cushions of her sofa, not caring about the dirt they inevitably spread across the fabric and immediately started to untie her boots, while she fumbled with the sash around her waist. Without thinking he had pushed her hands aside gently and unwrapped her waist, opening the dark coat to help her shrug out of it. The leather-harness and white shirt beneath it were drenched from sweat and dirt and clung to her upper body revealing parts of the underclothing beneath it. Cullen had not been able to avert his eyes quick enough. Clearing his throat he turned away to hide his burning face and headed towards her washbasin, filling a little bowl and a glass with water.

Handing her the glass she accepted it thankfully and while she was eagerly gulping down the liquid, he started to unravel the bandage covering her eye, wondering what took them so long to get a healer up here. Cullen sighed with relief as he noticed that what the bandage had covered, had already decreased to a thin cut through her brow, missing her eye barely and continued onto her cheek. It must have happened shortly before their return by the looks of it, though he did not understand why neither she, nor Dorian had simply mended it with magic.

"Of course I care for your well-being. What monster would I be if I didn't? So what happened?" He asked while cleaning her face of any dirt with the rag he had brought earlier, his hand under her chin keeping her head still and forcing Helena to look up at him. His first comment had her cheeks become a pretty pink, while she tried not to look him in the eyes. "It was bad luck, really. We were getting ready to return when Varric suddenly spotted dark figures looming on the horizon, coming towards us. Darkspawn." His breath got stuck in his throat, but he listened as she ground out the words, still raspy. "We had been clearing the desert and some ruins of the blighted creatures for weeks so it came as no surprise. I admit though, that endless running and fighting through this hellish heat, deliberating the fortress and killing another Dragon, had us all burned out. Bull, of course, was the only one enjoying the whole ordeal. I saw it coming but I couldn't conjure my magic fast enough to dodge fully. The dagger nicked my eye and blinded me for the rest of the fight."

Her own hand came up to pat his, that had stilled right under the cut as he'd listened and brought him back from his paralyzed state at her feet. "I'm fine Cullen. The blade didn't infect me, but I know how lucky I was. I promise to be more careful next time. I'm glad Dorian and I could save my eye together, though the cut that's left will remain, no matter if I try to heal it or not. We were just too drained back then." The way his name had tumbled out of her mouth as she tried to dissipate his worry over her, had his heart skip yet another beat.

Putting aside the bowl with water and the rag he opened his mouth to speak, when suddenly the door to her chambers opened and several people pooled into the room. Most of them being servants carrying a copper bathtub, food and several buckets of water they filled the tub with. Among them was also Solas who strode towards them as soon as he had spied the Herald. "Ma Falon. I already heard from Cassandra you had been attacked by Darkspawn on your return here. How long has it been since this wound was inflicted?"

Rolling her eyes a little she answered calmly. "It has been over ten days. After I was injured I retreated immediately to avoid Darkspawnblood to sully it. My skin tone is normal as you can see and aside from a fever, I have not suffered any of the known symptoms since then." She sighed heavily and covered the elves hand with hers, that was on her face emitting a slight green glow.

"I'm sorry to have worried you Falon. I'm fine truly. I just need to bath urgently and then I could probably sleep for a week, but since Corypheus is not going to kill himself that's not very likely to happen."

The smile she gave Solas was warm and affectionate and for a moment Cullen felt how jealousy shot through his veins before he could rein it in. After Solas had left, the Commander had only briefly lingered to wish the Lady to find some deserved rest, before heading towards the stairs, until a soft voice from behind him stopped his retreat. "Commander Cullen. I know it may sound inappropriate of me to ask, but would you stay a moment longer? I know I left without an explanation or any goodbye and I'd like to talk if you don't mind."

He had meant to let her rest before he'd approach her and so was a little wary as his body turned again slowly. The sight of her white shoulders and her long elegant neck just over the waters surface had him face away hastily and his cheeks flushed. There was a long pause until she finally spoke up, her voice quiet and almost colourless. "So you read all of it?" He swallowed heavily. "Yes." She shifted in the bath, filling the quiet that descended with the sounds of splashing water. "It mustn't have been very hard for you to discern it was mine, judging by the way you looked at my necklace when we met at the dinner table or that night after you saw my back, was it? Cassandra does not know very much regarding my origin, neither did she ever see my scars, or the pendant I wear all the time, but she likes to read these kinds of things. It's ridiculously silly and probably why I thought it would be a good idea to give it to her not mentioning it was mine. Maker knows I was wrong."

Between her getting out of the tub and dressing behind him she continued.

"But I certainly did not intend for you to find out this way. I don't know what you think of me, now that you know how I spent my childhood in the Circle. It certainly doesn't entail my proudest moments. Childish as I was, but one tends to always resent their younger self looking back I guess." her voice started to shake a little after that and she spoke with more haste than before. "I just hope this doesn't sully the way you perceive me..."

"No of course not! It never even crossed my mind. Ever since you have joined the Inquisition I have not once thought of you as anything but the person we could look to, to see compromise where we couldn't. You are in my opinion the best thing that could have happened to the Inquisition." How easy it was for him to speak the truth when he wasn't distracted by her. His hands had balled into fists as he restrained himself from turning around, until he felt a warm hand on his arm.

The way her ocean-blue eyes would enchant him as soon as they where fixed on him always hit Cullen like the shock while pouring a bucket of cold water over his head. "I'm sorry for leaving like this. I was not upset with you, more with myself, for not just telling Cassandra it was mine right from the start, or just keep it to myself altogether." Her gaze dropped to the floor and she seemed to fall in on herself as she continued, her voice just above a whisper "I received a letter from Leliana concerning your situation. It almost made me return earlier."

Without thinking, his hand came up to grab her under the chin again and made her look up at him. Sincerity lying in the depths of his eyes. "It was not because of you. The reason my old demons emerged again was entirely called forth by myself." It had been strange, how he had faced himself in the mirror the first day after his confrontation with Leliana. He had not recognised the man in the mirror. Eyes still holding only anger and frustration, red rimmed perfecting the picture of a mindless madman. How he had been completely taken over by this...darkness sleeping inside of him. He didn't even remember for the life of him what had been the reason for such a drastic change in character. The guilt of just letting go of the reins was what had him re-analyze his whole demeanor. How he had simply decided not to decide and just let someone or something else take over. "I still need to apologize to Leliana and Josephine." His eyes flicked upwards to her. "And to you for having you worry over myself while you were already occupied with much more urgent matters. A rather poor show of collegiality."

Her smile was warm and brought dimples to her cheeks he would have loved to kiss, still held back by the tight leash he had put around himself in the last weeks. "No need. Whatever it was I should have just kept this forsaken diary for myself. I'll come pick it up the next time I drop off a cup of tea." She winked at him with clear mischief in her eyes and stepped out of his reach, heading for her bed. "And something else. I think that all the things we have been through, shielding each others backs has already pushed us beyond simply being colleagues Commander. But if you are still harbouring doubt regarding our relationship we can aim for becoming friends in the days to come."

This intentional sassiness had him shake his head chuckling. "I would in fact like that."

"Good night Commander." He only heard, muffled by the covers.

Sighing he turned to leave for real this time, even though a little reluctant. "Good night my Lady."

Three weeks passed and the only time they had spent together had consisted of pouring over the war table, arranging everything for their journey to the Winterpalace and the shortly thereafter planned march on Adamant. The Inquisitor had already made her disapproval, towards this specific order of events exceedingly clear and her Commander had coincided with her argument. The longer they waited, the bigger would Corypheus' army of demons become, but as Leliana had phrased it, the Game did not wait and that her scouts reported in daily, confirming steady numbers residing at the fortress.

They both had conceded under the two former bards insistence, despite it being as absurd as it was. What had returned in this time though, much to his delight, were the little notes she had used to write, that had arrived along with his tea, before she had left for the Approach. Cullen would write his own little thoughts and quotes on the back now, to slip them between the papers he'd hand her the next day at the meeting. This secret correspondence had him feel like a young man again, sneaking behind the instructors back, to slip a secret to the woman he fancied.

Yes he had finally admitted it to himself. He wanted more from this shy, yet surprisingly witty woman, than a few heated glances from across the table every now and then.

"The smile she wears is a mask, a tool to achieve a goal. It fades as soon as the dignitaries are out of sight, her gaze going blank, almost sad. She is back in her own corner of the world, where she feels safe. Unobserved. At peace, but sad. Pain, loss, all the misery. For what? The moment is gone as she feels it. Prickling on her skin. Someone watching. Templar. And she notices him at the corner of her vision. Eyes meet and the smile, that appears now is warm, happy and genuine. He knows every smirk, grin, or smile she exchanges with her companions during conversations. This one is just for him and always has him lose his stern composure for a second, before he can rein in his body. She's bright. Warm. She pulls him from the abyss." It was late and thus alarmed was Cullen as the spiritboy suddenly materialized on the edge of his desk, blabbering away about the inner-most thoughts and emotions of the woman he desired and himself. He had long forgone any attempt at understanding the real concept of the being, that called itself Cole and so Cullen simply tried to avoid contact with him in public, not keen on having his own private thoughts blurted out for everybody to hear.

"Thank you Cole." He had simply muttered under his breath, still nose deep in reports, which had actually brought the hint of a smile to the young man's lips, before he had disappeared again into thin air and Cullen had only been left with thoughts of the Lady Trevelyan. The way she'd smile sometimes was only meant for him, how her humble and shy nature came forward when she was surrounded by those she trusted. Taking the time to join them more often at the dinner table, he had observed how every individual was met by a little different side of her.

With Solas she was a student, eager to absorb any knowledge he could impart. Sera made her laugh, but the noble always seemed to try and appease the skittish elf's moods and often crazy whims. Finding herself more often than not as the sole recipient of such in form of pranks. Aside from Cullen of course. The crazy rogue had had already taken a liking to him back at Haven and so annoyed him with her tomfoolery every chance she got.

The Lady Trevelyan was rather motherly when it came to Cole, but stopped him whenever his ramblings would go too far. Watching her and the Iron Bull in the courtyard was always a sight to be observed, since the mountain of a Qunari either had her beat him with a plank, or he'd try to catch her, while she nimbly evaded him with her magic. Something Cullen even allowed to distract his charges, for they could see how some mages would move in the field and on the other hand learn ways to catch them off guard.

The only one who more often than not brought forth the Inquisitors scorn, was the enchantress from Orlais, whose patronizing nature and love for the Game always had her sigh deeply after yet another taxing encounter with the other Knight-Enchanter. She'd always endure them with the utmost air of politeness and understanding, but if one watched closely, her marked hand would ever so slightly twitch, a flicker of green appearing in her palm.

Dorian, Cassandra and that snarky Dwarf had taken a special place among all of them. In Cassandra, he recognized his big sister Mia. Always chiding, but protective and caring at the same time. Varric was like the favourite uncle, who had many life-lessons to teach, but mostly spent his time with infecting her with his own ludicrous ideas. The Tevinter Mage was the hardest for Cullen to identify. The man never ran out of sassy comments he could throw into ones face, but when he was around the Lady Trevelyan, those who cared to actually see, could detect the softness around his eyes that changed his features as soon as she approached him. Some of the servants even whispered about them being huddled together in the armchair, the Tevinter had personally placed in his own corner of the library, her head comfortably supported by his shoulder, one arm encircling her waist, while they pored over old Tevene texts they were marvellously able to translate.

This relationship was what had Cullen question her motivations towards him most. But he had stopped trying to overanalyse it, soon after another evening he had wasted, mainly thinking about those two. He was a man of action and as such he would simply have to ask her about it and see what came of it. Period.

"Josephine I'm telling you this is ridiculous. I may be from the Free Marches, but this is just an offense against my person and my position. At least have the front covered. An Inquisition-emblem if you so please, a darker hue flowing into the blue of the rest of the dress maybe? Otherwise I'm not consenting to wear this."

"Hmmm that actually sounds agreeable. I'll speak to the seamstress at once." A relieved sigh flowed down the stairs towards him. "Thank you Josephine."

Cullen had only wanted to drop off some reports and the little tome, since neither of them had had time to meet outside of the war-council, when he had heard the commotion upstairs. Stopping dead in his tracks his eyes widened at what he saw in front of him. Her back was facing him, completely exposed by the dress she wore. The scar on her back equal to a painting on a pale canvas. The sky-blue fabric flowing like the waves of the ocean in the breeze that wafted in from the windows. The gaze she threw over her shoulder at his arrival had been short, but enough for him to detect the distress in her eyes at his presence, her posture becoming rigid, before she took a deep breath and faced him. She could not have looked any more gorgeous than when she turned around in this moment. Cheeks flushed, her golden hair framing her face as the light coming through the arched windows created a halo around her head. Her eyes glowed even brighter, accentuated by the dress. It fit her perfectly the way it hugged to her curves at the hips, cascading to the floor like the tail of a siren.

He understood her objection towards the front though. It was, as the back, slit all the way down to short over her navel and would expose the perfection that was her décolletage to every onlooker who'd come her way in Halam Shi'ral. Just the thought of it made bile rise to his mouth. He knew this style. It was rather unusual, still some women in Kirkwall had flounced through the upper quarters, presenting their assets to everyone. Willing or not and he was glad for her quick thinking.

Clearing his throat he asked "Lady Trevelyan may I have a moment of your time?"

"Of course Commander. I'll come talk to you later Josephine." As soon as the Ambassador was gone, the Lady stepped towards him and turning in a circle, took his breath away yet again with her gracefulness and beauty. "So what do you think?" She asked, her voice a little shaky, due to bashfulness.

Clearing his throat he gazed down to the floor, looking sheepishly and trying to retain order in his head. His thoughts having immediately drifted towards what it would be like to take this dress off. Finally he said. "Well, it is as you remarked too revealing for a woman of your class and position, but otherwise you look wonderful. Especially since it accentuates your eyes so beautifully." Had he really just phrased it like that? He was seemingly becoming more well versed around her, which made it none the less embarrassing. What he heard next almost startled him. He had never heard her laugh like this before, it was bright and full of mirth, something she seemed to lack most of the time. "Really Commander you don't have to look so mortified. Thank you for your compliment. It means a lot coming from you." Disappearing behind a paravent she added "I still need to get it to the Seamstress to have it changed, or I'll never live it down if the others see me like this."

"They certainly would have a field-day at your expense. Mostly to hide their admiration of you though." The last part had been more like a murmur to himself, but still audible enough for her to pick up on it. By the time his eyes rose back up again from his feet she had dressed in the usual leathers she wore in the keep. Trousers clinging to her toned, long legs perfectly, her golden tresses tamed back into its usual tail, as she looked up at him mischief in her eyes. "May I inquire to why specifically it would be admiration Commander?" Now she was just fishing for a compliment and teasing him about his choice of words at the same time. _Do something and please don't let her think you are an idiot._

His voice low and sultry, he returned "That would be telling my Lady." He was likely just as surprised as her about this cunning comeback. Where had this come from so suddenly? They stared at each other like this stunned as they were, until he broke out into a hasty explanation. "Of course they would be envious, since you..., well you are..." He huffed out an exasperated breath. So much for his sudden whiff of cunning. Andraste's knickers what can I say to not sound like a blabbering fool or a lecherous pervert? Another gale of laughter had him fix her with one of his typical stern frowns, that would have any soldier under his command beg for forgiveness, yet here she stood, blinded by tears of laughter, as she fought to regain her composure. Wiping at her eyes, a giggle still escaping her every now and then she finally uttered: "I'm sorry, but this was simply exhilarating. I couldn't help myself." Her expression sobered again and she bit her lip, trying to find the right thing to say that would appease him and bring back the playful mood from before. "I didn't mean any ill by it Commander."

This mood however was lost, due to Cullen's own thoughts returning to the pictures he had collected in his mind of her and the Tevinter Magister, or Altus like he had been corrected. In his blind distaste of their closeness, did the words leave his mouth, before he was able to react. "Then why don't you join Dorian in the library again? He clearly seems to be better versed than I am in these flirtations should that be more to your taste Inquisitor." The way he used her title at the end sounded bitter and it was petty and foolish to act jealous, since he had not lain any claim, let alone openly verbalized his affections for her. So it was only fair for Helena to feel dumbfounded and disgruntled in return, as she crossed her arms in front of her chest, eyebrow raised, defiance glinting in her eyes. "For one Commander, I'm very content where I am and secondly, what in Thedas could possibly have given you the impression of me and Dorian pursuing any kind of romantic relationship?"

"Don't pretend you didn't know how the two of you, being huddled together in that library, looked like to any one passing by." He argued taking a step forward and at the same time trying to stay calm in the face of her obvious lack of understanding. "And I am telling you there is nothing going on between me and Dorian." Their noses were almost touching as she herself had taken a step towards him, not backing down. Eyes boring into each other. His still sceptical, hers burning with a fire he had never seen before, but in their depths Cullen could make out the honesty behind her words.

His frown deepened, not out of anger now, but simply out of growing confusion. His eyes flickering between hers and her mouth that was so temptingly close. "There isn't?" Rolling her eyes she returned annoyed now. "No definitely not. Dorian could never see me this way." His bewilderment remained until she added: "His tastes lie elsewhere Cullen."

Oh.

Maker he was such a fool! And he had just gone and assumed the worst of her without ever asking her personally to clear up the misunderstanding. The same thing he had sworn to himself not to lower himself to. Sure it had been so convenient to simply accuse her of playing both sides of the fence, that he had not even once wasted another thought on questioning its truth. Nothing would excuse the tasteless way he had flung his ignorance into her face and as much as Cullen desired for the ground to open up and swallow him whole, the soldier in him demanded for the least she deserved. An apology, even though he should probably kneel while he was at it, but his manly pride drew the line there. He did however take a step backwards, away from the woman he had yet again pushed away the moment she had gotten too close.

"I'm very sorry my Lady. I should not have gone and assumed. I know this does not make up for my behaviour in the slightest." His hand at his neck he sighed defeated, gazing around the room, while his mind still razed in search of something more tolerable to say, but came up empty. "I should leave you to your plans." She didn't stop him as he rushed down the steps.

Helena had thought she'd already experienced every facet of the Commander, but never before had she seen him so enraged by jealousy. It upset her, how quick to accuse and curt he had been. And at the same time, deep down it thrilled her, because it was proof that he returned her affections. Enough to cause such a strong reaction to a possible rival. Of course she and Dorian had become close, especially since they had saved each others hide in the future they had fortunately been able to prevent. A future that still caused her nightmares about her friends and advisors in those cages. But she had never wasted any thought on what their familiarity would look like to outsiders.

Sighing she burried her hand in the loose locks upon her head, ignoring the way she dishevelled the plait. They were both at fault, that was for sure. He for not coming to her in case he was as interested as it seemed and clear up the misunderstanding, she, for being inconsiderate of appearances. She scoffed disparagingly. No wonder I payed it no mind. I sound like Vivienne thinking like this.

Knowing Cullen- and maker had she gotten to know that man in the time they had spent together- he would lock himself inside his tower, tackling as much work as he could. Neither eating nor sleeping, until he was of the opinion, he had been punished in full.

Helena chuckled quietly to herself as she remembered another man very close to her, who was just as overly strict with himself. Always expecting the best, noting that nothing he achieved was ever good enough. It encouraged him to never stop trying to improve himself. Always balancing on the edge between motivation and discouragement. A trait he had passed on to his only daughter and the reason why she had detected it in the Commander immediately. The question was now to find a way of keeping him from fulfilling said punishment.

Good thing she already had an idea.

So much for part 4. I hope you enjoyed.

Cheers!


	5. Part 5 - I want you but I'm broken

First I want to thank those, who are following and who favourited this story. I'm very happy to have been able to catch your interest. Thank you, you guys made me really put an effort into finishing this chapter, even though it still took me quit a while. Well, Life. But whom am I telling that? :D.

I always feel as if I'd describe my characters as unnaturally talented. I mean, yes they are heroes and as such belong to the few who inhere the capabilities to overcome such hardship, but I'm getting better at humanizing them I think and hope, since I notice the way a story immerses you depends most on how well you can identify with the characters. A good style of course is the second ingredient and that is just as hard to learn and I'm never really satisfied with my own work. But I try ;). Perfect beings for one, don't exist and they wouldn't be believable if I wrote them that way, since I'm far from perfect myself.

Anyway enough rambling. On with the last chapter of this particular story-line (Hehe not really chapter 6 and 7 still belong to it) :D. I may be changing the Rating of this story after this, since we are obviously drifting into more physical encounters of Cullen and Helena.

* * *

Part 5 - I want you but I'm broken

Cullen was at his desk, scowling at the stacks of reports in front of him, while his mind lingered in the highest tower, sitting enthroned above the rest of Skyhold. He was still upset with himself. Mostly because of his incapability of keeping this stupid jealousy in check, that had coursed through his blood whenever he'd thought of Dorian's hands on the Lady Trevelyan. Still did, even though he knew of the defectiveness of his earlier assumption now.

Helena

It must have been years since he had read the saga, telling about a daughter of a god and a mortal woman, who had inherited such unearthly beauty, that every kingdom wanted to tie her to one of their heirs. In the end the circumstances surrounding her led to war and the destruction of an entire kingdom. "A face that launched a thousand ships." It had mentioned at one point. If Cullen had to imagine such a face, to him it would be hers. He'd be lying if he said it was not the first thing he had noticed about her, though it was only the superficial shell, that encased the person he had come to know over the course of the last year. Caring, intelligent and diffident, but also cunning, manipulative and calculating. The combination of the last three, often had her seem rash and foolish in his eyes back at Haven. Taking risks too willingly. Mostly in regard of her own life. It was completely untypical for a mage, whose life had been spent at the circle and therefore cause for his suspicion. Now, that he knew better, he continued to argue with her about some of the strategies she proposed, but was no longer biased and pleased whenever they could come up with a compromise together.

He had never even called her by her given name. Their titles keeping it professional. Inapproachable. Impersonal. When had they left that line behind? Maybe that day on the lake in front of Haven? It had been the first time he had let her magic touch him, had felt the way it had his skin tingling, calm and yet able to flare up to become a pure wave of destruction. Mesmerizing, but also threatening in the face of its potential.

Then

"Say Leliana, since you have your eyes everywhere, do you know where the Herald has disappeared to again?" Cullen asked a little disgruntled, after having searched every corner of Haven, yet he had not been able to get a hold of the woman. Ignoring his backhanded sideswipe, the redhead answered with a bit more sharpness than was typical for her. "Last report said she was sitting in the middle of the lake for no obvious reason. The ice is thick enough to carry a person easily though, so there's nothing to worry about." Cocking her head to the side in curiosity, she added. "My all-seeing eyes also tell me, that you two have been conversing quite a lot outside our meetings Commander. I never figured you to change your taste so drastically."

Oh how he loved those women and their gossiping tongues whenever he turned his back on them. Though admittedly he probably deserved the sarcasm. Waving his hand dismissively he retorted "Don't be ridiculous. We simply need to further discuss our joint trip into the Hinterlands to assess the need for those towers and finally acquire the horses we direly need from master Dennet. I also wrote to the Arl about our consideration towards supporting the mages. As expected he'd be more than happy to be rid of them, although at the behest Alistair's he's not to abandon them as long as they don't cause trouble."

"And we both know where his soft spot for mages is coming from." Leliana noted with a mischievous smile playing around her lips. How could he forget.

* * *

"Lady Trevelyan, what are you doing out here?"

"My, Commander it's called meditation, I thought you as a templar should be familiar with the term." Always with those sardonic remarks. "I very well know what meditation is my Lady. I'm simply wondering why out here and right on the ice as well. You intend to catch your death here after the breach didn't do it for you?" His own taunting response had a single sharp laugh escape her before she fixed him with an amused smirk, eyes roguishly glancing up at him from under her long lashes. "There are worse things out there than a little cold Commander." She feign-assessed her surroundings. "Besides it's rather cosy here, don't you think?"

Cullen had noticed quickly how reticent their Herald normally was whenever they'd hold a meeting in the back of the Chantry. The more he had been surprised to become the recipient of a sarcastic, teasing nature the more they conversed. After having discretely consulted with Lady Montilyet it had become clear, that although she had a witty humour obviously, he was the only one she enjoyed treating in that particular fashion.

 _Clearly she feels right at home with Leliana and Josephine at her side_. He had figured back then with dismay, but as time had passed it had become apparent that her mannerism towards him excluded mortifying him in front of others. A fact he respected and that even had him enjoy their little duels of words whenever they were alone. Except of course for the point, when she would turn the conversation towards him, trying to coax more personal and even indecent details from him.

Those always transformed the stern Commander into the young, rambling recruit he always felt slumbering right under his skin.

Right now though, he simply felt the strain on his patience weighing down on him, enforced by the sharp pain behind his eyes, that increased the longer he squinted against the bright reflection of the sun on the frozen lake. Rolling them in annoyance he pulled off his fur coat and dropped it around her shoulders unceremoniously, almost grinning at the scandalized look on her face.

"No it's not. You could have just as well meditated within the warmth of your hut. Or is that not to your tastes my Lady?" Cullen regretted how harsh and sneering it had sounded, especially as soon as his eyes fell upon her face once more. Her own were cast down, head inclined bashfully, lips pressed together tightly. Marvellous. Huffing, he crouched down to be at level with her, or as close as he could get with his height. "I'm sorry. I didn't want for it to sound as rude as it might have." He waited for a moment, before he could make out a scarcely audible murmur coming from her. "Pardon?" He asked into the quiet, again waiting until she finally raised her gaze to him. "The Veil around Haven is too noisy. It makes meditation impossible."

His bewilderment had an understanding smile replace the depression from moments before. "Despite your years of guarding mages, you never had the time to really get to know them, did you Commander?" There was no mockery in her words, as she rose slowly to not knock him off balance.

"As I told you before, we weren't allowed to get too close in case of possession. What do you mean by "The Veil is noisy."? Demons?" He asked alarmed, but was immediately reassured by her reply: "Not in the way you think. Of course due to the Breach, one is more likely to stumble upon them while dreaming, but it all depends on the mage." Her gaze was directed towards the Chantry, overlooking Haven as she continued.

"They taught us, that the Veil is nothing physically present, but rather like a magical vibration that repels the Fade. It reacts to the spirits and demons which try to enter this realm. And they in return are attracted by death and excessive use of magic. I found tomes in the Chantry telling about a cult that resided at Haven." The Herald let her eyes drop before her cerulean-blue met his amber. Sadness lying in their depths. "I found their graves, though I don't think they have been buried there. Leliana told me about the Urn of Andraste and how the Hero of Ferelden had to eradicate the whole cult in order to safe it from their lunacy." A slight shudder seized her body, before she concluded her monologue. "However, what I want to say is, that through the deaths at Haven, may it be that of refugees, the cult or maybe even of those at the Temple of Sacred Ashes, the Veil inside the village is constantly being moved by the spirits pressing against it. The noise and sensation it creates is bearable, as long as you ignore it, but..."

"But not if you meditate and inevitably focus on it." He finished for her. "Yes exactly." She agreed with a sigh, obviously relieved by his comprehension. Thinking back on what she had said, Cullen noticed something. "Is that the reason why you never use other spells than those for healing when you are here? To not attract demons?" Again she nodded. "Amongst other things. The other reason is, I may not like templars who enjoy intimidating mages, but I don't have to try and provoke anyone. They call me Herald of Andraste now but I can see how some of them still perceive me."

Cullen knew what she meant, as much as he wished it to be different. Despite his actions to prevent any of the Templars to act on their scorn towards the noble, he could hardly be around her at all times, but he had informed Leliana of the eventuality of a problem, therefore the extra eyes on her. Eyes, he knew were on him now as well, noting every move he made around the Lady Trevelyan. Not that he had any intentions in regards of her. She was more like one of his charges. One that had surprised him with her sword-skill the day she had come to ask for his aid in brushing up on it again. Every new detail he found out about her, had him wonder more and more if she wasn't really sent by Andraste herself. Too good to have been born in this reality.

"Do you trust me enough to let me show you something Commander?" Her voice was soft, her gaze curious, unthreatening. In the depths of his soul, he knew he still didn't trust her completely. How could he? She had come stumbling out of the Fade, the only survivor of the explosion, a strange mark on her hand that could close tears in the Veil and a mage at that. Sometimes his mind still wanted him to believe she was a conniving, demon possessed puppet. There to destroy the Inquisition from the inside out. These kinds of thoughts mostly plagued him in the early hours, shortly after his nightmares would awake him. Drenched in sweat, disoriented in the lingering grasp of his dreams. Back in the cage, where she herself had tortured him for hours. Hours that stretched into eternity. Trying to break him. Make him her slave. Why would he dream of her?

"Commander Rutherford?"

The voice was far away, before everything snapped back into focus. Remembering what she had asked, his mouth made the decision for him. "That depends on what you wish to show me." Her smile was playful and Cullen just waited for her next mocking comment. "You are not afraid of me are you Commander?" The young man who had been saved from Kinloch hold may have been afraid, hidden under a mantle of suspicion and judgement, but the man who stood before her now was no longer ignorant. Being honest, Cullen was slightly anxious towards her motives, but he would never admit that openly. "I never fear my opponents Lady Trevelyan, but I respect them as a threat I have to look out for." He noted sternly. "A very valuable realisation." She said inclining her head in agreement.

Circling him slowly, the Herald explained " There are mages out there who have harnessed the ability of bending reality and creating a state, in which their physical form becomes indistinct. They are neither really here, nor in the Fade. You could probably compare it with the Veil. A magical vibration that grants the user the possibility to move very swiftly over certain distances without the limitation of obstacles." Cullen's brows had knitted together in concentration while he had followed this part of her little lecture. "I have witnessed this kind of magic before. Is it true some are even able to freeze those they pass through?"

"Yes. And burn as well. It requires a lot of practice and focus though, but it is possible and very effective." She said nodding. "So, do I have your permission to show you?" Again their eyes met and Cullen's mind went blank for a moment as he was confronted with her mesmerizing irises, gazing back at him in quiet anticipation. "You won't freeze me to the lake will you?" She shook her head, flashing him another of her brilliant smiles before she walked backwards, increasing the distance between them until they stood almost twenty meters apart. The Commander's hands clenched immediately, as soon as he felt the weakened, but familiar tug in the air in reaction to her magic. It started out in a soft whisper on the wind and Cullen wondered, if this was all that was left of his abilities, but before he could dwell on this specific thought, the whisper dramatically increased to a crescendo, that flooded his ears.

As quickly as it had built, it dispersed in one blur of white-blue smoke, tousling his hair in a gush of wind and the merest hint of cold having his skin prickle. It was not the spell, that had him frozen in place, but the sensation that still coursed through his body. How could it make him feel so warm? So peaceful, when the small crystals covering his arms had not even melted? He could sense her presence behind him now, but was still caught off guard by her proximity as he turned around. Their breaths mingling in the cold air as they stood there, unmoving, their bodies almost touching.

Literally shaking off his momentary confusion he joked "Remind me to never get on your bad side."

"Oh Cullen, you have no idea."

* * *

Now

The scar over his lip stretched as he smirked at the memory. Never would he have believed that he'd fall for a mage one day. Had he fallen already? More in the terms of hanging on to the edge of a crumbling cliff. The question was could he let go? Fully aware of the impediment that was his withdrawal, this war and the sheer weight of their responsibilities. Had he not decided he wanted more? Right now he was not so sure any longer.

A careful knock from one of the doors had him almost jump in his chair. Expecting it to be her, who asked for permission to enter, his disappointment was even greater when Cullen realised it was just one of the servants bringing him another cup of tea. His "Thank you." was brisk and almost swallowed by the rustling of parchment, while he sifted through the reports in front of him half-heartedly, trying to focus on the task at hand. It was hours later, that he noticed the little note with his name, written in her modest handwriting.

 _When you are done brooding, join me in the gardens tonight._

 _Please._

 _Helena_

The descending sun outside his narrow windows, tainted the room in soft tones of apricot and crimson. _Almost time._ Any later and he would have probably missed her. Should he even go? He could not just stand her up! But what if she just wanted to push him away for good? Pinching the bridge of his nose, Cullen tried to calm the voices in his head. _What do you really want? Wallow in self-pity and hatred until you go crazy, or go out there and tell that woman you adore her?_

* * *

A few hours earlier

"Dorian? I need to ask for a favour." Her words were quiet and were almost drowned out by the buzzing of voices in the great hall, had she not spoken right next to his ear as the companions were seated together around the dinner-table. Her gaze was stern and a small crease had formed between her brows, that inevitably had his hand come up and smooth it out gently with his thumb. "Well it must be something important, if it has such an ugly wrinkle tarnish that beautiful face. This has nothing to do with that dashing fool of a Commander of yours, has it." He teased. "The one and only and you know it," she retorted playfully offended. "I invited him to meet me in the gardens tonight and I want to keep any wandering night-owls from entering without posting just as nosy guards." Raising her index finger at him accusingly she added "And don't give me that look. We only need to talk things out."

Chuckling darkly, the Tevinter shrugged his shoulders. "Then wards it is. Whatever you wish for sweetheart, however I expect all the details tomorrow. Whenever you two decide it's time to get out of bed, that is." That comment earned him a shove and a warning look from a deeply blushing Inquisitor. "Don't you start. The rumours will be bad enough as it is."

* * *

Now

Helena was comfortably seated in the crook, formed by the roots of one of the captivating cherry trees she had immediately come to love upon their discovery in the privacy of Skyhold's inner walls. Its shadow would keep Cullen from spotting her straight away. If he even showed up of course. But she didn't have to worry, because in that moment the main-entrance, that they had left unwarded for him, opened to reveal his tall, broad-build figure. She could have sworn to have caught a glimpse of Dorian's devilishly grinning visage before the door snapped shut. And Helena had thought Varric to pry.

The lonely candle on the chessboard had him automatically walk towards the gazebo, where he gazed around in search of her. His strong profile being emphasized by its light. She had been drawn in by his handsome features right from the beginning, trying to disguise it as teasing humour, whenever those emotions had tried to run away with her and judging by his indifference towards her back at Haven, she had succeeded. The more it had thrown her, when Varric had told her of the events after her collapse in the snow and his following attention towards her. Had she misread him so completely, or had his denial been just as defining as hers?

An uncontrolled chuckle escaped her considering her foolishness and had Cullen turn in her direction at once.

"Helena?" She would have never expected for it to sound so otherworldly as he spoke her name for the first time into the darkness surrounding her. Glad for its privacy as the gooseflesh rising on her skin had a shiver run through her body.

Sometimes when the nightmarish constructs of her dreams, would grant her a moment of peace in the vastness of the Fade, she would hear his voice. Gentle. Reassuring. Could feel the warmth of his embrace, as he held her. His breath tickling her ear, while his lips would ever so slightly touch the sensitive skin. It felt so real, that Helena wondered, if he was too dreaming of her, meeting her in their own little corner of the Fade.

Waking from those dreams, always left her flushed and yearning for his touch in the real world. On those days she'd stay as far away from him as possible, even in the confines of the war room and left the instant their talks had been adjourned, or concluded. Her cowardice vexing her endlessly later. But how could she have approached a man so clearly branded by his past with mages? He had made it clear from the start, that their acquaintance was purely born from the obligation towards closing the Breach. And she had played along. Instead waiting for those "coincidental" meetings, after having carefully lain the groundwork for their occurrence. A rumour here, a little note with his tea there. All for the sake of satiating her curiosity towards this self-contradictory man. Fierce, yet caring and with a gentle heart beating in his chest. Intelligent, but easily flushed and awkward whenever she'd become suggestive. Short tempered in regards of politics and yet endlessly patient, while he trained his charges. All the little details she had collected and grown fond of the more she saw.

Would he forgive her such manipulation? All the secrets she kept still? The urge to share them with him grew, the more she felt herself accepted whenever he was close.

Cullen waited for her patiently, knowing by the familiar hum of magic that she was near. He had frowned in the face of the wards, having the hair at his neck stand on end the moment he had opened the door to the garden. Nevertheless he had entered, although a little more guarded. He'd recognize that chuckle anywhere and was not surprised to find her smiling at him when she approached. It was her special smile, only reserved for him and had his pulse quicken.

"I almost feared you would not come." She said when she finally stood in front of him, her always so vibrant eyes a black mirror, reflecting the dancing flame. Shaking his head, he replied "How could I? I owe you so much more than a simple apology." That had her grin knowingly. "So your presence is only due to your guilty conscience?" she mocked.

 _This woman always has to take everything I say and turn it into a joke._ Cullen thought rolling his eyes. "Maker Helena, I simply meant to say that I have things to tell you." He paused, before adding "Though I don't really know how." There it was again. Her name. Simple and clear, yet filling her with euphoric anticipation. "I'm all ears." She said sweetly.

The part of him, that simply wished for someone to confide in, to be seen as the person he was, broken and makeshift patched up again, wanted to tell her. Everything. But where to start?

Like so often before, she had read his changing expression and tried to ease his inner turmoil by suggesting "Why don't you start small? We once agreed upon sharing the reasons for our common sleep deprivation. I have yet to hear yours." She of course has no idea of the severity of that particular story. He thought smirking ironically. To his surprise she again, immediately caught on to the subtle change on his face and letting her head fall slack to the side she asked in disbelieve "That especially is the worst? Well..." Searching for something to say Helena glanced around the scarcely illuminated garden, until she suddenly locked eyes with him again.

"You know," she started "you don't have to tell me anything. At least not, if it still makes you so uncomfortable. Whom I see now and whom I have come to care for so strongly, is the man right in front of me. Everything else, you'll tell me when the time is right." Her speech was uncharacteristically curt and her voice full of determination.

"You can't mean that." He pointed out critically, a deep frown darkening his already overshadowed features. Her eyes were unwavering, as they seemed to pierce right into his soul. "And If I do?"

"But I'm broken!" He exclaimed still not believing the genuineness of her confession.

"Then join the party." She retorted matter-of-factly. "I can't fix you Cullen, the only one capable of controlling his inner voices is you ,but that does not change the fact that I want to be with you through whatever it is. Provided, that you want the same."

The sensations her dreams had her believe she felt when he would touch her in the Fade, paled miserably in comparison as his hands reached up to cradle her face now. How small shocks coursed through her, while his thumb caressed her lips gingerly before his own firmly pressed against hers, eliciting a delighted little sound from her throat, that only stoked the fire within him more. Now that he could finally feel her. Body perfectly melding against his, her arms encircling his torso, hands gripping his shirt. His leaving her face to explore the landscape of her curves, quenching any remaining traces of demonic poison in his mind, injected by those, who had dared to wear her face within his nightmares and replaced them with her soft, all-imbuing warmth.

Had they not been forced apart to gasp for air, their kiss might have lasted all-night. "I'm sorry. That was-" He touched his forehead to hers, unable to elaborate, for she finished his sentence for him: "Exactly what I wanted." Although hardly visible in the golden glow of the candle, Cullen could have sworn, he saw her cheeks turn a beautiful crimson. His voice was low and a little raspy, as he chuckled, brushing a few strands behind her delicate ear before he spoke. "Good." This second kiss was shorter, but gentler and just as sweet, causing both their minds to go blank again. He could feel her smile against his lips before they parted. "What is it?" He asked unable to keep from smiling himself.

"I was just wondering how long you wanted to do that." Wrapping her securely in his arms, Cullen turned her question around in his head, trying to find the most truthful answer for both of them. When in fact had he consciously started to yearn for her like this? Maybe that night he had escorted her back to her hut, all the while animatedly discussing strategies? He had been most surprised by himself, having been distracted bye her beautiful mouth as she spoke, her hair set ablaze by the fire in the hearth, painting the most alluring picture, he had yet seen of her.

He had put it off as a momentary weakness on his part and hadn't dwelt on it further back then, but recalling it now, Cullen was astonished by his own strength of will, regarding any following encounter with her. How she caused his heart to skip a beat the moment she entered a room, how her smile warmed his skin and how much he wanted to run his hands through her gold and copper waves, whenever she'd free them from their braid.

Sighing deeply he finally spoke: "Much longer than I actually thought I could admit."

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Thank you guys so much for reading! I hope you liked it. I'm actually thinking of taking the first chapter under revision again, because I read it again and found it lacking. As always... Maybe if I have time, though work will keep me busy now xD. But I'm trying ;). Thanks again and Cheers!


	6. Interlude - Plans for an adventure

Hello Everyone! A big thank you to all those of you who favourited and follow this story even though it has been a long time since I updated it.

It has been over a year already since I last updated this story. Time flies and believe me I would love for it to be different. Life is overwhelmingly busy at the moment, since I am currently working towards my "Master" as a carpentress. Some of you may be familiar with the educational system in Germany, that grants you education and titles in the fields of craftsmenship. First there being the also called "Bachelor" and if you are keen on opening your own carpenters-workshop you have to finish your "Master", meaning exams and a wholly planned piece of furniture built in a certain amount of time...so yeah that's what I've been doing all this time, hardly coming up for air and writing about my favourite characters. Nonetheless I thought I could share a tid bit of what I have written to tell you I'm still alive ;). I hope it's not too much of a cliff-hanger and you still enjoy it. I'm not certain when I'll be able to write again, but it is not forgotten and I'm so looking forward to doing something else than hunching over the drawingboard, or standing in the workshop.

Thanks again and Cheers!

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Interlude - Plans for an adventure

Sighing deeply he finally spoke, "Much longer than I thought I could admit."

Her breath against his neck as she let out a thoughtful hum, had gooseflesh rise to his skin. Holding her like this felt like the most natural thing in the world. As if all the relationships he had passed up for duty had not been meant to be anyway. "What about you? Any confessions on your part?" He asked while his hands unconsciously explored the graceful curve of her back, hardened by months of physical training, fighting and exploring, yet it hadn't lost its natural softness, beguiling and mesmerising his senses. As did everything about her now that he had finally allowed himself to jump and truly perceive every detail of her.

Cullen still couldn't believe what had caused this woman to even consider his presence desirable. He, whose headaches and episodes of nausea trapped him in a sour mood most of the time on top of the mountains of responsibilities. The only times he had really felt at ease had actually been the moments spent alone with her or even in attendance of her close circle of friends. The way her aura would almost caress his skin whenever she was near, carrying away all the strain and doubt, only leaving him with a kind of peacefulness he had never experienced before.

Here she was, contentedly pressed against his broad chest and just as surprised by this fortunate turn of events. Despite his gentle hands, calmly stroking her back, Helena could hear and feel the hastened rhythm of his heartbeat, telling her how much she affected him in this moment. A recognition that had her blush fiercely as thoughts of all the other ways to quicken his heartbeat suddenly invaded her mind. Her own pulse racing, heart jumping with every motion of his hands, every change in pressure causing her skin to burn even hotter. Hopefully he wouldn't be able to discern the inferno under her skin from his own.

When had she started to feel true affection towards him? The fact that he was undeniably attractive had never been lost on her, but her distrust had only started to slowly disperse during their little adventure in the Hinterlands and everything that had led up to it.

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Then

She had been ready to build those watchtowers by herself the moment she had recognized that the Inquisition's influence had not yet been enough to round up the support they needed. Cassandra had been, of course, strictly against it and insisted she go over the plans with Commander Rutherford. An assignment she wasn't too fond of, even though the irritable soldier had grown on her quite a bit since their initial meeting in the dungeon beneath Haven's Chantry. Since then Helena had noticed how actually easy he was to talk to, as long as one didn't waste his time on politics. Looking back closely on their first real conversation after she had woken up at Haven, she noticed how he'd been rather shy to talk about anything regarding his personal life. His obvious tell being the way he would scratch the back of his neck while avoiding eyecontact, something she considered absolutely endearing.

The more she had observed him quietly from the sidelines, the less could she fathom the reason for his sometimes notably short temper. There was always a certain tightness around his eyes, one she had written off as due to the sun's reflection off of the snow, but it never lessened, even within the faintly lit chambers of the Chantry. It was then that she recognized it as a result of constant stress. Either it was caused by the pressure his work imposed on him, or maybe he was in pain, though there were no signs of superficial ailments. None she could see however. Thus she had let it go. Not that it was any of her business in the first place.

The sun was slowly disappearing behind the mountains of the Frostbacks when she approached the tall figure standing at the edge of the field, vigilantly watching over his recruits still absorbed in their evening drills. A routine she had familiarized herself with all too well in the past weeks while she had joined the drills herself. It was hard, but thoroughly thought through and therefore extremely effective in advancing his charges abilities and strength in a rather short amount of time. A fact that had a severe impact on Helena's respect for the man himself. He was harsh, adamant and almost imperious, but fair, only focused on proper training in which he always took into account each individual and their skills after assessing them beforehand.

Her displeasure towards the thought of having to deal with him regarding the towers almost seemed foolish now. Remembering how much she had actually come to enjoy discussing their plans with him, being the only one maybe aside from Varric, who could keep up with her sarcasm.

He would have to ask her someday about the way she was able to move so soundlessly around the snowclad valley, because the only way he had detected her presence before she was directly beside him, was due to the slight humming her magic caused in his ears. "You are a little late should you have intended to join us again tonight. Or did you come for another little duel my Lady?"

The ambiguity in his words had a smirk pull at the corner of her mouth, while she still observed the soldiers. "I'm afraid there are more urgent matters to discuss tonight than crossing swords with you. Literally or otherwise." she returned. "You remember Master Dennet?"

"Yes of course. You already spoke with him during your last expedition to the Hinterlands." One of his brows rose in suspicion. "I remember you mentioning he had some demands?" He had phrased it as a question, already anticipating there to be more. She nodded while her gaze grew a little darker. "Indeed he did and one of those included erecting watchtowers around the farmland." Taking a deep breath she continued. "But it seems, that the Inquisition's reputation isn't quite strong enough yet to convince the nobility to help us out." Her voice became even more quiet now. "Cassandra said to talk to you."

The sound she heard next to her, declaring his utter distaste was what Helena had expected, but she wasn't however prepared for the loudly barked command that followed.

"Rylen! Have them finish that last drill and then turn in for the night."

Spinning around on his heel he muttered. "Follow me."

Releasing the breath, that had become stuck in her throat, as the scare wore off the Herald followed the tall, disgruntled Commander as he strode towards his tent, only stopping to hold open the woven flap for her. At a long wooden desk in the corner, which was already filled with stacks of papers, did he unroll a map depicting the Hinterlands. He could already make out the best locations for said watchtowers, but he left it to the Lady Trevelyan to point them out nonetheless. "There will be four of them, all at rather advantageous positions around the farmland." Stroking the painted canvas almost reverently did she ad "Fortunately we have already explored the regions around the towers to make sure none of the bandits who had taken footholds there remained."

"Good. I'll have most of our men ready at noon tomorrow. We'll leave soon after. The rest can follow without any bigger delays thanks to your work along the travel routes."

Cullen spoke matter of factly as was typical for him. The slightly incredulous look she gave him had him backpaddle a bit though. "Or is it not satisfactory to you?"

"Oh no it is very much so. I had just expected to have to fight you for it a little more to be honest. If I didn't know better not to, I would be asking you about your health, but I'll take whatever I can, just as long we all get what we need to close that Breach." Ignoring her remark he sighed deeply while disentangling the ropes of his cloak. "I'm glad we are of similar mind regarding this topic. Doesn't make it less challenging, but at least it means nobody has to fight another over simple decisions."

The moment his hands reached for the clasps of his armour was when she decided it was better for her to leave. But before she reached the entrance to his tent, something he had said resounded in her mind. "...We'll leave soon after..." Turning around slowly she remarked "Commander if I'm not mistaken, did you say we - meaning you and me - would leave tomorrow after noon?"

He wasn't looking at her when he answered, still engrossed in the many parts of his armour. "Indeed I did. It's as you said yourself: "Just as long we all get what we need..." and there is something I need to look into personally while we are there, so it is more of a joint venture, than you forcing me to go without a large amount of men for the time being." She had to give it to him, he had played the blindsided and irritated part rather well, though the lack of resistance had been telling. Amused by the slight irony of it all she left chuckling.


	7. Part 6 - I can see you

Yeah I did it! Finally a new chapter :D. I've wanted to finish it in forever, but there was neither timer, nor did the muse see fit to visit me.

Thank you guys so much for the kind words you left me! They absolutely made my day and brought a smile to my face inspite of the heavy stress.

This chapter is a little outside my comfortzone since it entails some action and I have yet to write more of that XD, but I hope I could capture the mood properly. I'm also currently trying to eliminate any grammatical issues in terms of punctuation since I imported too many mannerism from my language into my writing. Sorry about that.

Joosek Michael: Believe me I know how you feel. I think I wouldn't be writing about them if I wasn't still so hung up on the game and its characters ;). Mass Effect was my first game I ever played seriously and later I tackled Dragon Age. They are all still with me. After all, the things these characters say have been written by real people and the reality hidden inside has brought me so much to still think about. Thank you for your kind words. The day I received your commen, was actually right before one of my exams and it really helped :).

Imelda B.: Thank you I'm so glad you liked it.

Guest: Aww thank you so much.

And now I hope you'll enjoy.

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Part 6 - I can see you

The Hinterlands

They had been on the road for a while and the snow covered tundra slowly morphed into the lush green wilds of the Hinterlands, the air becoming more humid with the change in temperature. The smell of the woods and wild flowers always reminded Helena of the lush vegetation of the Vimmark Mountains that were towering over Ostwick and for a few moments she almost wished to be back there with her brothers and father. "I hope you are well Father."

She had not seen him since the day she had left for the Conclave with the rest of their delegation. The only word she had received was after Josephine had asked her to contact them, but the response had been more than platonic and vague, making her worry about her father even more. Nonetheless, she had written home frequently, though the letters had become more and more like monologues she noticed. Why didn't anyone write back? Maybe the letters hadn't arrived? Had her mother any hand in this? Why would she withhold them? All those questions filling her mind, frustrated and saddened her. If her mother was truly capable of doing something so degrading, then Helena feared she'd never be able to reconcile with the woman she had once believed had loved her at least in her own strange way.

Her posture had become noticeably rigid and her aura gave of a strong feeling of cold that drew the Commander's attention. She was worlds away, but he recognized the growing pain behind the frozen facade and so Cullen tried to come up with some kind of distraction to bring her back to the present. Clearing his throat, maybe a little too intently, he was glad to see her blink her bright eyes rapidly in confusion before her gaze met his. "I was wondering, why didn't you bring any of your usual travel-companions with you?"

He waited while she seemed to process his words for a moment longer than she'd usually do, undoubtedly still engrossed by the echo of whatever had occupied her thoughts before. "Ah..." She paused again seeming almost frustrated now over her own irritation. Shaking her head sharply she finally replied, her brows furrowed. "I was approached by a group of Mercenaries who want to offer the Inquisition their services and since I am in perfectly capable company with you and your men, did I and Cassandra agree on her going on ahead to the Stormcoast to asses the situation. Since she has more experience in fighting it would have been foolish to make them wait for my return anyway. Depending on how long it'll take us to plan and set the construction of the towers in motion, I'll be catching up with them soon enough."

Her assessment of his men's capabilities, least his own, had never come up in any of their discussions before, which was why her opinion flabbergasted and flattered him at the same time, causing his chest to swell a little with pride, though he scratched his neck in embarrassment. The surprise over his rapid change of emotions showed clearly on her face before it lit up with that recognizing smile of hers, which he had witnessed once or twice when her incredible way of reading people had her catch on to the most subtle change in others' demeanour and either retreat quietly or smile comprehensibly just the way she did at this moment. Something that changed his way of regarding her yet again, for he had judged her to be the usual noble before, despite the fact she was a Circle mage.

How wrong he had been before and how wrong he was still, letting his prejudice reduce her to a faceless conglomerate of bad features he carried in front of him like his shield, branding every person with it as if it were his duty or right. Sighing internally he came to the same conclusion as always, whenever he had tracked down his own foolishness and dragged it into the dry, simple truth of reality. He was -despite his own sometimes colourful rechristening of the word- still only human, not better or worse than any other as much as his own stupidity and malevolence frustrated him. It was as much part of him as the little voice of benevolence, which was sometimes so quiet he had to strain to make out its words. How one was so effortlessly pushing its way to the forefront if he didn't restrain it and the other so hard to hold on to.

This time it was her who had to pull him from his thoughts. "If I may, I would like to ask you for more information on the reason for you to join me on this errand Commander. Maybe I can even be of assistance to you." Since she had proven herself to be resourceful, cunning and capable in the field there was no reason for him not to involve her. He might as well use her abilities to his advantage. "Mother Giselle and her entourage were meant to have arrived at Haven days ago but we had received word of a group of apostates hiding in a certain part of the woods. The locals referred to it as the Witchforest, telling old tales about children and young men disappearing inside, never to re-emerge." He said that while rolling his eyes. The Commander obviously didn't believe in such exaggerated stories, but it nonetheless made it the perfect hiding place for an otherwise much too conspicuous group of people. The involvement of Mother Giselle and her followers was what had her worry though. Whatever the mages wanted with them, it was certainly not the people themselves, much less a Chantry sister. "However, the informant also stated he found pieces of leather and parchment belonging to one of Mother Giselle's prayer books having been ripped and leading into the woods." His mouth pursed in scepticism as he was lost in thought for a moment. "It sounds too obvious to me and it honestly doesn't make any sense since there is no reason for them to have even taken a route through these woods, but it is the only evidence we have to go on which is why we will leave to investigate with the number of templars I have brought along, after we have established the first building-site."

He glanced over at her noticing her to be wrapped in thought as well, her gaze facing down towards her horse while her gloved fist was gently touching to her mouth hiding the serious line that had formed there. When she spoke again it was in her usual calm collected way. "Indeed it does not make sense. They could have only picked them up on the road. Maybe in the night...Let's just hope we are not too late."

Two days after they had arrived the main plan for the first tower had been set in motion and the group of fifteen templars led by their Commander and the Herald of Andraste departed for the Witchforest. Though a narrow passage through the cliffs surrounding the farmland offered a quicker route into the suspected area, the Commander had wanted to abandon the idea of travelling through it, not keen on being cornered in the spider infested space, but the Lady Trevelyan had looked at him sternly as they were both hunched over the map inside his command tent remarking dryly, "If you are so afraid of a few spiders, then I suggest you take the detour all the way back to the Crossroads while I burn my way through and meet you after I have saved Mother Giselle on my own, since she otherwise will be dead before you set foot in that forest." Her impatience and sharpness had brought up his defences and they had glared at each other for a long moment until he retorted just as matter-of-factly, "As much as I understand your sympathy towards her and her people, there are two things you are forgetting my Lady. For one: We have no real evidence that they have even been taken there, and another thing: As long as we don't know what we are walking into I'm not going to endanger the lives of my charges _and_ yours just because you want to cut corners." He had stood up to his full height while he had said it, towering over her by almost a head, regardless of her tall built, and had ultimately driven her into agreeing to his more reasonable approach.

She was silent now as they rode aside each other again, her emotions hidden behind her well established mask of serenity while she tried to keep herself and her horse from speeding on ahead. He was right, she had lost her temper last night, but she was worried about being the reason for the Mother's disappearance. She was a kind soul reminding Helena of many of the Mothers she had met at the Chantry in Ostwick. But she owed him an apology and so, when they where slowing down to cross the narrow waters below the still broken bridge leading towards the crumbled Fortress, did she move her Chestnut closer to the Commanders tall black Stallion until her calve touched to his, drawing his attention to her. "I'm sorry for having been so impatient and flippant last night. I let my worry cloud my judgement and I tried to push you into accepting the shortcut. I'm Sorry."

His only response was a short nod before his gaze focused back at what lay ahead.

Fitting its name thick fog wafted between the trees and shrubbery limiting their sight to only a few meters. Commander Rutherford split his men into three groups who would be following them in a semi-circle to flank their enemies and keep anyone from escaping. Him and the Herald were walking in the centre, as some kind of bait, using the limited field of vision to his advantage since their enemies wouldn't see the fifteen templars surrounding them. What he hadn't foreseen however, was the trap waiting for them.

They had been travelling for a while now, until the group was suddenly met by a strange block of ice enclosing a rock-formation in the middle of the woods. "Strange. Even with ice this thick, it would have melted in these woods, except if someone were to sustain it," muttering under her breath, the Lady Trevelyan reached out in curiosity "Why would they?" Her fingers only a hairsbreadth away she suddenly froze. She had been right. The ice literally oozed of energy, moving the Veil around it in shuddering waves that had the hairs on her arms stand on edge. Her eyes full of alert, she sought out the Commanders gaze. But it was too late. He felt it before he saw it. The ground beneath their feet shook as walls of spikes made of ice split the earth and trapped them in a narrow corridor. "Dammit!" He exclaimed under his breath. Looking to his right he saw how the mage patted down the slick wall, probably looking for a weak spot. "Can you bring it down?" The Commander asked as his eyes faced forward again looking out for an ambush. Helena beside him scowled sceptically. "It's too much ice to break it all at once, but maybe I can burn a whole through it. But this might take a while."

Turning her words around in his head for a second he finally nodded. "Do it. I'll cover you," he ordered, slightly bending his knees, broadening the expanse of his body to shield her, should any projectiles come at them. Straining his ears, he could hear muffled voices and rustling of armour behind the wall, his men trying to coordinate without their Commander but otherwise an eerie silence filled the air, all the usual sounds of the woods missing. A sharp pain-filled hiss behind him had his head turn to see the Lady Trevelyan shaking her gloved hand which was covered in a sheen of white. "Someone is constantly renewing the ice so I can't melt it away. These fools have no idea what they are doing. With the Breach in the sky and such an excessive use of magic, we are going to be facing a rift if this doesn't stop." She almost growled, flexing her stiff fingers.

There was no other way but forward and so they slowly made their way towards the dark gaping entrance of the cave before them. Halting in his tracks, the Commander whispered without tearing his gaze away from the entrance. "We need to find those responsible for those spikes, otherwise we'll probably be outnumbered should they decide to attack immediately." The woman behind him only scoffed, "What would _you_ do if a group of templars was closing in on your hiding spot? Invite them for tea?" Even now she had still room for smart comments, causing for him to roll his eyes. Whatever he did next could only result in two possible outcomes: Either they would have to fight at a disadvantage until they could somehow bring down the walls of ice, or by a miracle they'd be able to negotiate a truce. Though the latter thought made him scoff as well. Inhaling deeply he suddenly called out. "We are looking for someone."

That even surprised the Lady Trevelyan who glanced at the Commanders back, a brow raised in disbelief while straining to hear any sign of motion in the again descending silence. "I doubt that-" She was cut off by sudden movement in the shadow and a group of ten filled the entrance, their eyes wide with fear and none of them looking to be eager or ready for a fight. "We are not here to fight you should you be able to help us find who we are looking for." The Herald said over his shoulder. Still no reaction but shifting feet, trembling limbs and distressed glances. That was when she saw it. The tunic one of the men was wearing, though now dirtied and torn in some places, was decorated with exactly the same, colourful embroidery she had seen among the men and women at the Crossroads. Quietly extracting her sword from its sheath at her side, she whispered to the Commander, "These are people from the Crossroads, not mages. These cowards are using them as a shield." The last part was hissed angrily as her eyes tried to find those responsible in the dark. A haggard looking man with unruly hair and a white and grey streaked beard made his way through the line of civilians. "Not the best day for a stroll in these woods I'd wager." He said without any humour in his voice. "My name is Navar and judging from the red Lion standing before me I'd say you are from the Inquisition."

Cullen's brows only furrowed in confusion and the woman behind him didn't look any less surprised. Most apostates, they had encountered, had not cared for titles or affiliation, too blinded by fear and hatred to differentiate any longer.

"Yes your reputation has many a man quiver in his boots Knight-Captain." The man noted, the scratch in his voice making him sound just as frail as he looked. "Excuse me if I'm not shivering, but while you were out hunting our lost brethren, you never saw what really happened in the Gallows. The lunacy and cruelty Meredith rained down upon us like acid, burning everything it touched, seeping into every crack of that Maker-forsaken place."

Helena could practically hear the hairs on the Commanders neck stand on edge as he swallowed heavily. Taking a tentative step forward she noticed, almost with satisfaction, that the hostages where immediately replaced by more mages, except for those completely off to the side. _Curious_. Good, at least she had their attention now. "Now that we are introduced, let's get back to the matter at hand, shall we?" The man's dim brown eyes shifted to her, sizing her up as if she was a piece of cattle at the market. "I was not talking to you. Traitor!" The old man spit out dismissively, wiping almost all the humour from the the younger mages face and for a moment they just stood there, staring each other down.

Her sword was pressed against her leg while her marked left hand was balled into a fist at her side, so nobody saw how much her muscles were shaking with rage. Something in his voice and the way his gaze reflected pure contempt, had her blood boil. The only thing that gave away her ire were her eyes. None of her allies had ever riled her up enough to bring out what the leader of these Apostates was now being confronted with, as his eyes were pierced by hers, unable to look away even if he had wanted to. The usually crystalline blue was traversed with bright green veins, an eerie glow pulsing within them. His breath got stuck in his throat as his mind was flooded by the onslaught of memories, emotions and thoughts of the souls in the Fade, raging through his mind like a storm, his body stock-still while he was screaming on the inside, begging miserably for it to stop. What felt like an eternity of torture had only lasted a few seconds and any of the onlookers surrounding them would have thought it to be a simple optical spell meant to intimidate.

Cullen's gaze had never left the man and so he could have sworn to see true horror flicker over the aged features causing his eyes to shoot over to the mage beside him for a second, but all he saw was the profile of the same calm woman he had come to know in the passing months as she rapidly blinked her eyelids a few times. He had not felt any change in the air around her, but whatever she had done had completely shifted the mood of the group from contemptuous and ready to pounce, to stunned, almost yielding in a heartbeat. Eyes trying to evade her, nervous shifting of feet as if they wanted to run. The old man especially seemed to completely fall in on himself, his features even older than they had been before.

Her voice was calm to those who weren't familiar with her intonations, but all of the prior humour was gone and Cullen could hear the tremor of anger as she tried to stay in control. "I was at the Conclave to speak for those who weren't allowed to attend, _even_ for those who were already fighting and too blinded to see reason." In the pregnant pause that followed he could already see how recognition bloomed on the mages' faces. "Too many good people were killed in the explosion. People who made an effort of listening what both sides had to say and here you are, terrorizing those who have already been tortured enough by this senseless war. We came here to retrieve those we have sworn to protect within the Inquisition," another pause, her eyes suddenly seeking out Cullen's for a moment and he could have sworn he saw a slight green shimmer within them. Was he going mad? Maybe they had just caught a pulse of the Breach visible even from here. Or maybe his mind played tricks on him again. The silent question within them was nonetheless clearly readable and so he said, "We are not looking for confrontation, but we also can't let you go free after all this. The only thing I can promise you is this: Fair treatment even as prisoners and maybe a chance to atone while serving should you cooperate."

Helena felt it like a sharp pain behind her eyes, as the Veil was suddenly torn apart violently behind the group standing in front of them. The screaming followed immediately after, as sickening green bathed the cave in an otherworldly glow, the crackling of static within the forming rift reaching outward. The light within the cave also revealed the large group of people cooped up inside, mages and refugees alike, who were now scrambling to get towards the entrance in a panic while the walls of ice still trapped them. Helena, whose mind had quickly shaken the fright at the rifts appearance, took three steps forward grabbing hold of the old man's shoulder, yanking him around to face her again. "Bring down these walls or we'll all die in here. Now!" Urgency lining her last word. Satisfied with his first hesitant but then vehement nodding, she turned to her Commander who was already busy trying to calm the fear stricken civilians streaming out of the cave, the tide of bodies shoving and hitting another in blind flight.

The next sound reaching her ears had her blood run cold and all hairs on her body stand on end. "Of all the things-" Her instincts sent her forward in a cloud of white fog, passing through any of the civilians keeping her from reaching the rift. The sickening scratching of claws and cries of the terror demon trying to break through the shifting tear getting closer with every heartbeat. Her gaze flew back over her shoulder noting with relieve that the ice was finally coming down.

 _Too slow. Too close to danger. A_ voice at the back of her mind said. Stretching her left arm out, the mark immediately connected with the rift, buying her enough time to cast a wide barrier, shielding herself and the civilians closest to her, but there were still enough who'd be directly in harms way.

The stream of people was endless, while Cullen tried to stay on his own two feet without hurting any of the civilians around him. "Maker! Calm down!" His commanding voice boomed above the noise, halting a few in their steps and for a second it seemed as if they had heeded it, until another ear-splitting shriek tore through the moment of calm and the panic arose anew with full force. Three things happened next, and he would have missed them had he not stared towards the rift in horror of what was waiting behind it. The Lady Trevelyan had teleported, like so many weeks ago as she had given him a lecture on the Veil, now standing right in front of the tear, the mark on her hand glowing like he had never seen it before as it strangely connected with the shifting nether, but her attention was turned towards the people still inside. They were too close. Much too close. He felt the deep tremor as a sheen of blue suddenly encased those closest to her. And then his eyes met hers, filled with urgency. It was a miracle that he could hear her above all the commotion. "Commander: There is no Darkness!" Four words that had been burned into his mind as he had underwent templar-training, and without thought did Cullen shove his way closer to the rift before his focus brought forth the resisting barrier that would shield the innocent around him from harm for a time. He couldn't believe how he had done it without the influence of Lyrium, but there was no time to dwell as his gaze found the woman at the rift again.

Cullen would never forget the moment of pure and utter terror grabbing hold of him as a bony, clawed hand closed around the Herald's neck, overly long, waifish fingers digging into the material of her coat.

He had done exactly what she had expected and a huff of relieve left her. But she had lost focus. In the instant she felt the presence, it was too late. In her travels with her companions Helena had always been far enough out of reach to avoid any direct contact with the fear instilling creatures, but now as its grip around her throat grew tighter, razor-sharp claws digging into her flesh, not yet penetrating the skin thanks to her barrier, did she truly appreciate the Seekers abilities to keep enemies away from her. There was no escape now though, as she was lifted into the air, the strain of her own weight and lack of oxygen making her head swim. The only thing her brain was able to discern were the shadows of half a dozen other demons exiting the rift and pooling into the cave before twelve red glowing orbs grew ever closer, the acidic odour of decay invading her nostrils while her weakening body still struggled against the vice-like grip. Another shriek resonated painfully close to her ear, drowning out her own cry of agony as the demons spiked tail ripped into the back of her coat, the barrier failed and her flesh tore.

And then there was only light. Silence. Was she dead?

But the next thing she new she was being shaken by a big pair of hands, trying to rouse her from her stupor. "Lady Trevelyan! Maker dammit don't you dare! Please wake up!" His voice was rough no longer the smooth, slightly scratchy base she was so accustomed to. As all senses returned so did the pain and with eyes flying wide open, Helena gasped for air, panic constricting her maltreated pipe, fire raging down her back. The healing spell her befuddled mind could conjure was weak, but enough for her to stand with her Commander's assistance. Around them was only a battlefield now, the civilians having completely dispersed after the walls had come down and the cavern had filled with the Inquisition's templars, who were now battling the demons still descending from the rift.

"You need to close it. Now, or we don't stand a chance!" In any other situation Helena would have rolled her eyes at him for such an obvious remark, but right now she was just glad to be able to extend her left arm, reconnecting with the rift. Suddenly all demonic attention switched over to them. The other templars completely forgotten, Terror- and Fear demons lurking towards them. The second, as one of the terrors manifested right in front of them, Helena closed her fist and the tear turned into a twisting whirlpool of energy, pulling every demon present, back into the depths of the Fade. The booming explosion as the rift finally closed, was the most welcome sound she could have imagined.

Both her and the Commander simultaneously released an audible breath of relieve.

* * *

Their work had only just started after the rift had been closed, since the civilians had been scattered into all four cardinal directions and templars had been injured during the battle against the demons. The men and women who had fought bravely in the face of their enemies had been sad to report that one of their own had been dragged into the Fade by one of the demons, unable to escape the pull of the closing rift. Death to save the many. A destiny claiming countless lives these days. They all had names. Families. Friends. But they knew the score...

Of course a good number of mages had fled during the turmoil, but one of Leliana's agents had already checked in with them, reporting their successful apprehension.

Some had stayed behind though, among them also their leader Navar, tending to the wounded and apologizing for what they had done. It was strange watching these people. In the end they all were just looking for a place to be free, but along the way they had forgotten that the real enemy was neither the Chantry, nor the Order but the darkness inside _their_ hearts that led to all these monstrosities. All of them lost souls in this war, trying to find someone to blame, becoming monsters themselves along the way. A never ending cycle.

There was still a long way to go, but their help was a start and considering the panic, Helena was astonished about how limited the numbers of wounded among the civilians were.

Night was falling when they finally returned to camp and it was long after midnight until the last refugee was settled. The shoulder, where the demon had sliced open her coat still hurt, but one of the women among the refugees had helped her clean it properly and the rest would be mended with magic.

What had transpired in that cave? She could only remember that light and then...nothing.

Her feet had carried her unconsciously towards the Commander's tent. _Maybe he can "shed some light" on the matter_. That thought had her chuckle under her breath before she called out. "Commander? I'm sorry to disturb you, but do you have a minute?" His response came belated and Helena wondered if she had roused him from sleep. Entering, she spotted him at his desk, still rifling through papers, his movements seeming strangely uncoordinated. "Lady Trevelyan. Is everything alright? How is your shoulder?" He sounded so tired and Helena regretted having disturbed him. Shifting a little uncomfortable on her also aching feet she answered, "Everything is on the mend. Thank you for your concern." Biting her lip for a second she decided, now that she was here she might as well ask what was bothering her. "While I was trapped by that demon, I saw a strange light drowning out everything else. Would you happen to know what that was?"

His hand was instantly at his neck and the Lady Trevelyan immediately knew what would follow. "That was my fault and since this ability doesn't really differentiate between friend or foe it must have also been the reason for your unconsciousness." His eyes avoided hers as he said that. "I'm sorry, but it was the only thing that came to mind as the demon grabbed you, even though it meant you'd be affected as well. But I knew you wouldn't be harmed...since it only truly harms demons...you know." His ears had become red from embarrassment as he hastily rambled his reply. Turning away, he started fiddling with the leathers of his armour and so he didn't see the knowing smile spreading on her face, but he could nonetheless hear it in her tone as she spoke again. "Thank you. I don't know what would have happened had you not done what you did. It was foolish to take my eyes off of the rift for even a second."

The rustling of fabric and chainmail stilled for a moment until his voice broke the silence, filled with understanding even though it also carried a certain sadness. "Yes it happens when we look out for others. I saw the way you protected the civilians and I don't know if I wouldn't have done the same as foolish as it is to risk life and limb, knowing perfectly well that you cannot protect these people any longer if you are injured or dead. I'm just glad I had the power to in turn protect you." He paused, "Or at least save you, for that matter."

As a comfortable silence descended between them, Helena noticed his continuing struggle with the buckles of his armour. Uttering a quiet "Allow me," did she step forward, gently pushing his weary hands aside and swiftly undoing them herself. It was no Templars armour, but close enough to the, oh so familiar ritual of undressing, that she only stopped the moment her palms connected with the bare skin of his neck beneath his jerkin and the sudden realization had her pull away. Interlacing her fingers behind her, she bowed her head, awaiting his dismissal, but she waited in vain, for only silence was his response. Lifting her eyes to his face again, Helena detected with apprehension that his skin no longer held its rose colour, but instead was pale and almost greyish, covered in a sheen of sweat.

Sinking heavily onto the simple wooden chair beside his desk, Cullen unconsciously rubbed at his eyes, fruitlessly trying to dispel the gnawing, never ceasing ache. His inner exhaustion had the voice seem miles away, but its insistence forced his mind back to the present and he could suddenly hear it clearly. "Commander? Are you unwell? Please may I have a look at you?"

He only blinked repeatedly, unable to grasp the meaning of her words, before he questioningly glanced up at her, regretting the movement immediately for it sent another spike of pain through his temple. Groaning lowly he let his head drop only shaking it in resignation. Her soft voice sounded again, this time a tad more pleading than before. "Please let me help if possible." What could she, or anyone, do for him in this state? He was sick and some times in the last months he had wondered if he hadn't been mad, to even think about putting himself through this in the first place. And after today he knew there would be no more use of his abilities in the future. He had been more surprised to see that he still had enough Lyrium in his system to be able to perform them with such efficiency. But the cost was dire he knew. He could feel it down to his very bones, every movement heavy, lined with pain. How would he get up come morning? Besides, even though she was part of the people closest to him, nobody could know about his situation. Not yet, that he still was so at hte mercy of his withdrawal.

He wondered for a moment what he must look like to coax such a reaction from her, but in the end he sighed giving in. His inner voice pleading for help, no matter how little. He was too tired to ask questions any longer. "Fine, but if I detect anything out of the ordinary believe me I'm not nearly sick enough to still smite you," he said hoping she wouldn't call his bluff.

Swallowing heavily she stepped closer again, returning to her duty of helping him out of the rest of his armour by loosening the buckles and leatherbands of his jerkin until only his linen shirt remained. It was drenched with perspiration and clung to his broad chest. Walking over to the pitcher and bowl besides his field bed, she collected both items together with two cloths and carried them over to the place in the middle of the tent, where the Commander still sat his head now leaning back against the single post that supported the midsection of it. Kneeling down before him she explained, "Listen Commander we need to get rid of your soaked shirt but I'll need a little help with that." He only gave off a low grunt which sounded like a confirmation and he slumped forward again, fumbling awkwardly with the hem still tucked away in his trousers. Clicking her tongue Helena gently but firmly shoved his hands away, not without noticing how much they were trembling and swiftly freed his shirt, hiking it upwards while exposing his taut abdomen to the rather chilly air. Thankfully he was responsive enough to lift his arms so she could finally rid him of the wet cloth, now looking upon his naked upper body. Or much rather starring in awe at the perfectly shaped muscles she found there, before she caught herself and shook her head disapprovingly about her own foolishness. _What am I doing?_

Reaching for the pitcher, Helena held it between both her hands, concentrating until steam rose from the long neck of the vessel. Pouring the now warm water into the bowl, she soaked one of the cloths and started to gently dab over his brow while her other hand held his chin. On the surface his skin was clammy but she could feel the heat radiating off of him as she was bowed over him. "I never thought I'd see the day when you would help me in a pinch like this." He suddenly said slurring a little. Circling him for a moment to attend to his broad back she retorted simply. "Of course I'm helping you. There is no reason to deny you anything, not after the way you defended me that first day in the dungeons and that is just one of the many kindnesses you have extended towards me since then, without taking today into account." Stepping back in front of him she returned to the Commander's neck, shoulders and chest working efficiently by first cleansing each area with the warm water and drying it off with the second cloth she had brought.

Was it so strange for her to want to help him when he needed her? Or did he think himself so undeserving of any help? She pondered as she worked.

His breath tickled her cheek as he spoke again, "I remembered you, you know?" Her head turned abruptly, her nose almost brushing his as she gazed into his half lidded eyes. The always so clear amber of his irises now foggy from sickness. "I'm afraid I don't know what you're implying," she inquired in disbelieve. Was he delirious? His voice was low and husky and caused a shudder to run down her spine. "How could I forget those eyes, especially after they had looked upon me with so much fear in them, just like that day in the forest outside the Circle of Ostwick. That was you, wasn't it?" When she didn't reply he continued, "We had been on our way to Ostwick investigating some strange sightings in the region while we were passing through to board a ship to Kinloch. I had been sent on ahead of the rest of our men, scouting the area a bit and actually pretty glad I did, because it would have been even worse had there been ten men the moment we ran into each other. The circle wasn't far off and I had watched you stroll across that clearing as if you had not a care in the world. I hadn't known what to make of you. Your smile had been so innocent and the way you caressed the plants around you had been just so mesmerizing that I hadn't dared disturb you. You were the most beautiful girl I had seen until that point. Young lad that I was. But well, you know the rest."

Eyes wide, mouth agape, did she pause for a moment, not believing what she had just heard. All this time she had thought she'd never see the young man from that day again and later when she had heard what had transpired at Kinloch, Helena had believed he had been killed. The happiness that suddenly coursed through her caused for a small relieved rush of air to leave her opened mouth which was twisted into a smile. Something wet on her leg almost startled her but then she recognized the cloth and that she still hadn't finished her task. Smiling about herself, she continued reaching up to clear the rest of his chest and abdomen from sweat, a blush creeping onto her cheeks while she dried his warm skin, feeling the taut muscle beneath her hands.

Helena crossed the space to the small Trunk at the foot of his bed and retrieved a clean shirt from it. Turning back to him, she saw that he had risen from his place on the chair, steadying himself against the wooden post, his eyes never leaving her until she was standing before him again, offering him the shirt so he only had to put his arms through the sleeves while she lifted the bunched up fabric and the opening over his head, straightening it as it slipped down his body. Reaching up Helena gently pressed the back of her hand against his forehead. He was warmer than he should be, but it was nothing that couldn't be taken care of with a little restorative magic.

She was glad he had been so cooperative even now that she steered him towards his bed. As he was securely positioned under the covers, she leaned forward hesitantly reaching out her hands. But the moment her palms were coated in a soft green aura, his hands shot forward from where they had been lying beside his body and grabbed her wrists in a vice like grip. "You won't touch me with those venomous claws of yours you filth." He spat from between his teeth. His eyes on fire with blind anger. The pain in her forearms and his sudden outburst had caused the air to become stuck in her throat and she couldn't reply. And so they remained in that awkward position for a moment that seemed like hours to her until he spoke again. "How dare you wear her face you filthy demon. Thought you could trick me by using her to get to me didn't you? Well forget it! I will never submit to you."

What was he talking about? She was neither a demon, nor did she want him to submit to her. Helena's mind raced after hearing him say that. Something was definitely wrong with him. His eyes were not really focused on her but looking through her, his hands which had only trembled slightly were shaking now and not just because of the painful force with which he still clasped her wrists. What were she to do that would not hurt him? "Commander Rutherford please it's me. I'm not a demon I don't want you to submit to me!" She argued, but he just spat the word "Liar." and she sucked in a pain-filled breath when he twisted her arms further to the side. Her left hand suddenly pulsed brightly and had them both pause. His gaze turned from her face to her hand and back a few times before his grip finally started to loosen.

The burning as the blood returned to her stiff fingers brought tears to her eyes, but she fought them down biting her lip. The Commander was quietly staring ahead still sitting upright in his field bed, emptily gazing at his shaking hands. Maker she hadn't noticed anything the whole time she was with him. This wasn't simple deliriousness caused by exhaustion and sickness. This was something she recognized just now that she had been confronted with all of its symptoms. The sweating, probably head-aches now that she remembered the constant tightness around his eyes, the delirious state and the excessive trembling of his hands. And now hallucinations. She had only witnessed Lyrium-withdrawal once, but it had been just as violent...and deadly. Covering her mouth with one of her hands she turned away, forcedly breathing through her nose, trying to calm down. Who did this to him? Was it Leliana? Or even Cassandra? How could they?

After a moment of pause, a last question arose inside her mind. Or was he doing this to himself? And why?

A warm hand at her shoulder startled her, expecting the next violent episode, but there was no more anger twisting his usually handsome face, instead it had been replaced with utter remorse and sorrow. Pulling her against his chest he buried his face in the crook of her neck, his hot breath causing her to shiver violently though she couldn't tell if it wasn't still the fright from before that had her almost shaking like a leaf. "I'm so sorry." He almost wept and his arms tightened around her but it was not painful this time. In a strange way did it comfort her as well, though she still didn't believe that he was completely himself again. "It's alright Commander no one is going to hurt you any longer, but you should sleep now." He didn't move for another long moment, simply holding her. "I'm so sorry Hawke I couldn't help her. I'm so sorry." That was when she knew he was still trapped in his delusion. Sighing deeply she carefully slipped from his grip and pressed him down onto the bed again and his eyes found hers, still pleading. "It was not your fault Curly. Anyone else would have done the same." She lied, deliberately using the nickname Varric and Hawke had given him in their time in Kirkwall. Varric had told her after he had first used it and she had asked about its origin. Whoever Hawke really was, she probably didn't know anything about his guilt.

"Don't call me that." He muttered under his breath and a sad smile spread on her lips.

"Sleep now." She simply said, feeling how the events of the day and this evening weighed down her form. Every muscle aching, her eyes also heavy with drowsiness. Thankfully he obeyed and was soon fast asleep. Placing her palm on his forehead she focused her thoughts and the green aura reappeared, this time without interruptions. Almost crawling on all fours towards the tent's entrance, Helena pulled herself up using one of the flaps for support before gazing back at the sleeping man on his cot with sadness darkening her features. Her mind only filled with a single question. "Why does it have to be you?"

Morning came sooner than she would have liked, chasing away the serenity of the dark and while the sun slowly rose on the horizon, Helena found herself sitting over the last glimmering embers of last nights campfire, eyes gazing unfocused into nothingness.

Despite her exhaustion, sleep had eluded her, her mind filled with pictures of creatures of the Fade, cries of pain and torment echoing in her head and after senselessly thrashing around in her bedroll for what had seemed like hours, the confines of her tent had become too suffocating, causing her to flee.

One face she recognized, among the many others that haunted her, had been at the forefront of her mind, being twisted into the most horrifying ways she could conceive, leaving her heart racing and aching at the same time. And she hated it. Hated how much it bothered and at the same time left her feeling indifferent that one of the templars had died, a man she didn't even know. How she felt like a liar and a monster, facing the reality that a part of her feigned sadness, though deep down she couldn't feel a thing. And at the same time she hated, how her heart broke at the certainty a man she respected and all in all had finally come to like, would most likely die by the ramifications of his abstinence because he had decided to, for whatever reason, stop taking Lyrium. Weakness she could not allow herself to be dragged down by. But it just hurt so much.

Busying herself by preparing breakfast, tending to the wounded, splitting and reorganizing supplies until the sun had already passed its zenith Helena finally stopped for a moment. Inhaling the rich air filled with the different fragrances of wild flowers, herbs and even the different kinds of trees, mixing with the smell of metal, mud and horses. A symphony of life all around her, she could appreciate again, now that her mind was finally free from the cycle of doubt and self-destruction from this morning.

A subdued cough behind er had her turn with a start. Bright amber eyes met muted blue and it was as if their roles had been reversed. His cheeks had regained some of their colour, but most of all the tightness around his eyes had dissipated, his posture was impecaple as always and she could detect no obvious tremor as her eyes roved over him. How she must have looked like, greasy and exhausted that she was.

"Come with me." He simply ordered and turned to walk into the direction he had come from. Helena had no difficulty catching up with him, his strides perfectly in time with her own despite her noticeable fatigue. Ever the gentleman. They walked until they reached one of the trees on a hill overlooking the camp, the sound of the bustling between the tents only a muted buzzing now.

"Sit," her Commander stated, pointing at the thick patch of moss between the tree's gnarly roots, adding a gentle "Please," when she didn't react immediately. Still not really sure what his motives were, Helena obliged his request without any objections, but the moment she sat down, feeling the cool treebark at her back and the warm sun on her skin, she knew. He was quietly but adamantly requesting her to take a break. A smile played around her lips and she hadn't noticed that she had closed her eyes until something landed in her lap startling her yet again before she could notice that it was just a pouch filled with some food and a waterskin.

Searching and finding him seated upon a stone beside her she looked at him with a slightly scandalised look, none of them had to say a word since the way his brows were raised, his face clearly said in return "Do I need to ask?" Shaking her head Helena chuckled while rifling through the contents of the bag. And so they sat in companionable silence as she ate her meal, none of them feeling the need to fill the content silence with useless chatter. Just enjoying the view and a few moments of peace and quiet.

Commander Cullen Rutherford had awoken this morning, feeling better than he had in a long while. No, he could not even remember when he had last felt so clear and steady. The ache in his bones was only faintly noticeable, his hands almost as steady as back in the day before he had stopped taking Lyrium. He only remembered his last conversation with the Lady Trevelyan, regarding the occurrences within the cave but after that...Someone had clearly helped him out of his armour since it had been left stowed away differently than when he did it himself. Had she stayed? Was she the reason for his condition? What had he said? Or done?

Then it dawned on him.

Did she know?

After having dressed he went looking for her but was instantly swarmed by messengers and soldiers vying for his attention and so he resigned himself to his mountain of work before he tried finding her again, which proved no easy task since she seemed to be moving around just as much as him. Asking around the camp he had learned that she must have been up since the early dawn for she had been helping out all around with chores regarding the well-being of his men and the civilians they were housing until they were ready to depart for Haven. He had missed her at the lunch table and started to worry.

It was early afternoon when he coincidentally spied her standing between the tents, her unruly hair illuminated by the sun brining out the coppery undertone in the otherwise honey golden waves. He couldn't see her face but her shoulders were hunched over and the way that mud and dirt clung to her arms and the plain clothes she wore, told him he was right on time.

Being somewhere else entirely, she visibly jumped as he tried to announce his presence to her as politely as possible and the second his eyes met hers he wondered if he usually resembled the sight presenting itself before him now. Her hair was unkempt and filthy, so unusual from her normally sleek appearance. Her beautiful blue eyes were noticeably dim and rimmed by dark circles speaking of obvious lack of sleep, her skin was pale and reddened where tools and ropes had chafed it leaving it raw.

Sighing he had her follow him to the tree he had spotted earlier in his search of her and had found it appropriate for a little break, secluded and yet not completely disconnected from all else. She looked so tired and somewhat haunted when he searched her eyes, that he strongly hoped to not have been the reason for her distress. Looking like a child as she settled between the tree's tall roots he studied her, noting the small smile playing around her mouth, her eyes having fallen shut as she bathed in the sun filtering through the branches, creating dancing shadows on her features. How delicate and fragile she looked, while all of them had already started expecting her to be their rock. Steady and unyielding in the face of the elements, though even that analogy was false he noticed smiling ruefully. Remembering the whole purpose of his search Cullen pulled the small pouch from his belt and carefully dropped it into her lap, earning himself another of her disapproving looks like whenever he surprised her. An expression he found rather adorable and which he had come to elicit from her with morbid pleasure whenever he saw the opportunity. No one said he couldn't tease back in his own way.

Watching her eat in silence, his mind wandered back to the night before, still trying to remember what exactly had transpired between them that left him extraordinarily rested and her like the female version of him after a week of insomnia and work stacking hire than his head, though he hoped he always managed to at least keep his appearance from going down the drain.

Spying yet another messenger, Cullen quickly rose from his seat atop the small boulder beside her, turning to dismiss himself only to find the Lady Trevelyan asleep, her head resting back against the trunk of the large tree. Turning quickly to stop the messenger from advancing any further towards them, Cullen swiftly untied the straps keeping his mantle in place and carefully draped it over the sleeping form of the woman before him. Crouching he was at roughly eye-level with her, taking in the serene expression on her face. _Maker what would I give to know what you are thinking of right about now_. Studying her for a moment longer, his eyes fell onto her slender hands still noticeably red from manual labour. Extracting a small box from his pouch Cullen sent another look over his shoulder, noting that the messenger had not moved from his spot at the foot of the hill.

In her dreams Helena felt warm hands gently grasping her own, rough with calluses but endlessly tender in the way they touched her, massaging the tired, tensed up muscles, spreading warmth throughout down to the bone. The first thing she noticed waking up was the warm weight encircling her and something constantly brushing against her skin due to a soft breeze. Opening her eyes she was met by something furry just below her chin, tickling her with every movement of the air. She must have fallen asleep soon after she had practically devoured the meal the Commander had been so kind to bring her. He had left her his coat, her face growing warm at the thought of him touching her while tugging her in. Judging by the sun it couldn't have been more than a few hours since he had brought her up here to take a break she had direly needed, yet had not had the opportunity or mind to take it. Inhaling deeply as she stretched beneath the coat, she was surrounded by his unmistakable scent that reminded her of autumn leaves after the rain, mixed with the usual citrusy fragrance of whatever he used to keep his hair in perfect order. Though Helena had caught him in more than one situation, when a few of his curls would break loose falling into his face, leaving her almost week in the knees. But only almost. How deep would she fall if a few unruly hairs in a handsome man's face could undo her so easily. Rolling her eyes at herself she rose from her place beneath the tree, stretching her stiff limbs.

Chuckling about herself as always when she caught herself being foolish, she rose and returned to camp to get cleaned up and ready to depart to the Stormcoast that night. Besides she had to return a certain red cloak to its rightful owner.

* * *

Now

He adored the way her emotions were reflecting on her face while she searched for an answer. Nuzzling her with his nose playfully beneath her ear he was rewarded with her squirming in his arms. "Stop interrupting my train of thought." She wheezed between laughter, swatting him on his chest. After she hald calmed down Cullen released her only to frame her face with both of his hands. "You are taking far too long my Lady," he teased , feigning impatience before kissing her again, her response just as eager as before. After breaking apart she returned a little out of breath, "Well, there are a lot of fond memories to rifle through, mind you, and you have to condone me for trying to discern when exactly simple infatuation along with a trusting friendship turned into more than that."

He could only agree with her on that account, considering his own inability for that matter. "What were you thinking about?" Cullen inquired, curious now in the face of her obvious recollection of concrete details of past interactions. After a moment of pondering if she should tell him or not, Helena finally answered, "Do you still remember our little adventure in the Hinterlands?" Typical for her to answer a question with another question, in that regard she often painstakingly reminded him of Leliana. Considering how much time they spent together it didn't seem all too surprising though. "Yes I remember...but I must admit I still don't really recall what happened that night, after you had closed that rift. We actually never spoke of the events again. Would you care to enlighten me?" Playing with the stubble at his chin she bit her lip, not sure if this was such a good idea. After all there had also been something concerning Hawke, something Helena had lain to rest that night because it had not been her place to meddle then, and it probably was not her place to meddle now, even though she could grasp the relationship between them better. She wasn't even sure if that bit of information had been a true memory, though as dreamlike as his delusions had been, she still believed them to hold some truth. After all he had told her about their first meeting. In the end he won by looking at her with those guilt imbuing eyes of his and she gave in under the weight of his gaze.

"After I had helped you out of your armour, I noticed something was wrong and I got worried. You were feverish and sweating so the only thing I could think of doing was get you cleaned up and into dry clothing." His raised eyebrow did only fuel her embarrassment, but the darkness gladly hid the deepening red in her cheeks. Or so she hoped. "What would you have done in my stead? It was not like we had brought a healer along and causing a ruckus over something I was perfectly capable of handling would have been just foolish and disconcerting," she argued.

"You just didn't think of it. Admit it." He said dryly, the corners of his mouth twitching as he tried to keep from smiling, but she had already taken the bait. "Of course I didn't think of it, my mind being completely occupied by the half naked man in front of me, testing my restraint with every intake of breath and at the same time he was revealing to me how he had been the young templar I had met back in Ostwick, whose kind smile and sweet nature had me cry, later when I heard Kinloch's circle had fallen and nobody had survived. Your were..." eyes wide with shock, her mouth agape, she only stared at him. What, in the name of Andraste had just gotten into her?

Cullen had never heard her ramble like this before. No, he had never even heard her utter so many words in a row and at such speed. Taking in her words he felt flattered and embarrassed at the same time. So he had told her about that time. Maker what else had his withdrawal-riddled mind choked up while she had taken care of him? It couldn't have been that bad considering she was here with him now, reciprocating his feelings. "I was...?" He encouraged, curious about what she had wanted to say, trying to persuade her to go on.

 _After having made a complete fool about yourself anyway you can just as well tell him the rest_. Her inner self told her, resigning itself to the simple truth. The expression on her face was that of calm again as she spoke now. "You were the only other man outside my family who had not looked at me as if I was a monster. I knew it was foolish to be so presumptuous but you really seemed like a templar with the believe that even though we mages were weighed down by our abilities and susceptibility to demons, that we were not cursed. Still children of the Maker and worthy of the benefit of the doubt until we either proved worthy of his love or chose to lust for more power succumbing to demonic influence." Her hands were framing his face now, gently caressing the outline of his jaw, sending shivers down his spine. "You made it so easy to fall in love with you then and even though I later met a man, raddled from everything he had seen and done in between, I had the pleasure of getting to know that man and recognize he had not changed despite all that," a tear was rolling down her cheek and he caught it noticing the wetness in his own eyes with surprise. Bowing his head until his forehead touched hers, they simply stood there. After a long while of simply sharing the air and warmth between them he could only say "Thank you." The poorest and yet only thing he could find, unable to voice what he felt right in this moment. How his whole body was practically bursting with happiness, exhilarated and swooning over the fact to have found someone who could look behind the professional mask of Commander of the Inquisition and just saw Cullen, lost and searching for what was truly himself.

He had made it easy to fall in love with him? Coming from the woman who had always looked at him with curious attention, not a trace of judgement hiding behind her eyes. Only undesrtanding, trying to find an explanation or otherwise remaining quietly rapt in thought. How none of them seemed to know the way they affected people with their presence.

What a strange pair they were.

* * *

Phew this was a long chapter. Let me know what you thought if you want ;). You may have noticed that I don't really map out my chapters, just writing whenever I have an idea. I re-read my chapters and change things along the way if I'm unsatisfied with how it turned out. Just finished retouching all chapters prior and I hope their all in all sound is more alike now.

Thanks for reading :D


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